


Star Trek Porn (Various) PART 1

by Exorin



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poly, Polyamory, Porn, Rimming, Smut, Snippets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:52:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exorin/pseuds/Exorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various fic/snippets copied over from Tumblr. Please see each chapter title for ships.<br/>All are standalone and explicit.</p><p>These are the first 20. There will be a new... issue? Listing? Chapter? for the next 20 (<a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7919938/chapters/18097546">and here it is</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spock/Chekov, Sulu/Chekov, Kirk/Chekov, Chekov/Himself: The One With A Fantasy

He’s already been opened, slicked and spread by two, no _three_ , of Spock’s long, slender fingers and then widened even further by the hard, demanding shove of the Vulcan’s cock – he can still feel the ache of it in his thighs and in the deep throb of his cock where it’s hanging heavy between his legs, pressed up against the edge of his navigation console.

Everyone on the bridge is watching him and he knows he’s blushing, making small, embarrassing noises at the back of his throat and trying not to look too desperate with the way his hips keep canting forward for friction or with the way his back arches and he presents his ass, slightly raising it up in the air when Sulu steps up to take his turn.

‘Ah, Hikaru,’ he moans when the pilot’s steady hands slide onto his hips, keeping him steady – and somewhere behind him he hears the Captain’s voice reminding him of the rules, 'sorry, sorry Lieutenant Sulu, sir.’ he corrects, biting down on his lower lip and sighing as Sulu’s thick, precome-soaked cockhead breaches his tight little stretched-out hole.

'Fuck Ensign,’ Sulu is saying, groaning, as his cock sinks deeper into Chekov’s ass, 'don’t know how you’re this tight after Spock’s had you, _jesuschrist_ ,’ and Sulu is only half of the way out before he’s slamming back in, shoving Chekov’s body up, hard, against his console, 'I can still feel the heat of his come inside you.’  

Chekov barely registers the noise he’s just made as it sounds _nothing_ like him – just this needy little high-pitched _whine_ that echoes in his chest and makes Sulu chuckle quietly behind him, still thrusting, his voice breaking into a long, growling moan with every moment that passes.  

And he’s holding Chekov’s hips hard enough to bruise – fucking in to him so hard, so quick, just jerking little movements with his hips that make Chekov sigh and spread his legs open wider for him and, at that angle, it only takes him a few more full, rough thrusts before Sulu is coming inside him, adding to the come already leaking from Chekov’s hole until he feels like it’s going to pour down his thighs.

Sulu pulls free of him with an obscenely wet sound and Chekov can feel his legs shaking, hell, his whole body is trembling and he knows that if it weren’t for the console in front of him that he’d be on the floor of the bridge right now.

'Let’s see if you’ve still got room for me, huh Ensign?’

’ _Keptin_.’

And he’s so tired, so ruined already that he barely registers the change of scenery until Kirk is kneeling in front of him with the viewscreen behind him – all the stars in the universe rushing past the window, the command chair still warm from Kirk’s body.

'Ah no, not in your chair, I will ruin it.’ he says quietly, clenching his whole body just to keep from spilling come all over it, struggling to hold it all in even as Kirk drags him forward and maneuvers Chekov’s legs up and over the armrests.

And then Kirk’s sliding his index finger through the wet mess of Chekov’s inner thigh all the way up to the red-stretched pucker of his hole to press it all back inside of him and Chekov cries out, whimpering helplessly with how filthy it is that his Captain is fucking the combined come of his bridge crew into him with his finger.

’ _God_ look at you Ensign,’ Kirk sighs, adding a second finger in with the first and pushing, twisting, bending them together to make Chekov squirm, his breath gone, lost somewhere at the back of his throat, 'all fucked out and still so tight. I bet you’d love it f I came in you too,’ and Kirk pauses again, turning his face to the side to drag his teeth along the pale, sensitive flesh of Chekov’s thigh, 'you want me to fuck you too Ensign? You wanna show me how tight you are?’

'Da Keptin, yes, _yes_.’

Chekov tries not to moan at how easily Kirk lifts him like he weighs nothing, holding him up as he slides into the command chair – and Chekov has to bite the inside of his cheek to not scream with how good it feels when Kirk starts to lower him down slowly onto his perfectly thick, hard cock.

 _Christ_ , the sound of Kirk fucking into him, somehow stretching him out even further, should be illegal, it’s such an incredibly filthy sex noise – it’s all grunts and groans and Kirk’s come and lube and spit slicked fist pumping Chekov’s cock at the same speed as his thrusts until Chekov is sure he’s going to explode from how hard and good and _wet_ it is and then Kirk is coming inside of him, adding to the feeling, getting Chekov good and filled and fucking _soaked_ and Chekov can’t, he can’t…

And Chekov is down on his knees, eyes squeezed shut, alone in his quarters with one hand against his mattress, clenched in the sheets, shaking, barely holding him up and the other down between his legs, jerking his cock hard enough that his forearm is straining and his thighs are fucking _aching_ with how wide he’s got them spread and he’s so goddamn close, so close…

Kirk’s got his mouth against his ear, whispering, sounding distant over the roar of Chekov’s blood, 'Yeah, come on, come for me Ensign. That’s an order.’

And Chekov shoves his face down into his pillow when he comes, gasping hard and drooling over everything, his body shaking and hips still moving, still pushing his sensitive cock through his fingers until he’s got nothing left to give and, _fuck_ , he thinks, barely coherent, but he has to look everyone in the face in approximately two hours from now and try not to think about how hard he’s just come from thinking about them.


	2. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Kirk Holds Him Down

‘You love it when I hold you down, don’t you Ensign.’ Kirk says, and it’s not a question – not when they’re like this, with Chekov folded up underneath of him, both wrists held above his head with one of Kirk’s strong hands keeping them there, his legs curled over Kirk’s shoulders, knees bent, his heels digging into Kirk’s back.

And Kirk is thick and heavy and wide inside of him, soaked with spit and lube and buried right to the hilt, his cock throbbing with every shuddering breath Chekov takes – with every slight shift, every gasp, every single squeeze of Chekov’s tight hole around him, 'Tell me.’

.

It wasn’t always like this, this rough, desperate _fuck_ – hell, it used to be damn near gentle, Kirk constantly terrified that he’d hurt his young Ensign if he ever really let go, but god, Chekov’s a fucking mouthy brat when he wants to be and he’s so goddamn good at pushing Kirk’s buttons, and sometimes he says _sir_ with just the right intonation that it makes Kirk want to shove his cock down his throat until he can’t breathe.

That’s not to say that Kirk doesn’t sometimes take him gently – there’s certainly been times when Chekov has sighed against Kirk’s mouth and begged without asking with eager little kisses and soft fingers, clutching at Kirk’s back and whining for Kirk to fuck him slowly, it’s just that those times are few and far between with them (and Kirk is not complaining).

.

’ _Aye_ Keptin,’ Chekov groans, flexing his arms just to see if Kirk is using all of his weight to keep him in place and when he knows that Kirk is he fucking _sighs_ , 'yes, yes I love it.’

And Kirk, with one arm wrapped around Chekov’s waist to help hold him up, pulls his hips back until just his leaking cockhead is still pressed into that stretched heat, 'Again Ensign.’ he says, rocking forward just enough to make Chekov whine for it.

'Yes sir, Keptin yes, please, yes.’ Chekov repeats himself over and over, his eyes blown wide and black, his face and chest flushed, his lips wet and red and swollen from how stretched Kirk’s cock had made them earlier.

And _jesuschrist_ Kirk could come just like this with the head of his cock being squeezed and Chekov begging beneath him with Chekov’s cock wedged between their bodies, dragging lines of precome along his stomach, hard and aching to be touched and it takes everything Kirk has to not pull out and crawl up Chekov’s body just so that he could come across that mouth and those pretty flushed cheeks.

'Please,’ Chekov moans, trying to fuck himself back against Kirk’s cock, 'I want you to fill me up, please, please _Keptin_.’

Kirk damn near growls, shoving forward hard enough to make Chekov’s legs dislodge from where they’d been bent over Kirk’s shoulders and Kirk releases Chekov’s wrists to grab a fistful of his soft curls instead, pulling his head back to drag their mouths together – all tongues and teeth and spit.

Chekov reaches down with his newly freed hands to hook them under his knees, spreading his legs out wide, opening himself even further to the fast, rough tilt of Kirk’s hips and to the thick shove of Kirk’s cock fucking into him, 'Yes yes, more please, more Keptin.’ his voice is completely wrecked, cracking and edged with desperation, begging against Kirk’s lips.

And Kirk is so _goddamn_ close even before Chekov stretches himself further open to take Kirk’s cock as deep and hard as he can manage that it doesn’t take much more than a few thrusts before he’s coming into the tight heat of Chekov’s hole – and he barely has time to get a hand around Chekov’s precome soaked cock before Chekov is gasping, his hole clenching around Kirk’s over-sensitive cock as he comes between their chests.


	3. Kirk/Chekov: The One Based On An Earlier Post

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You may want to read the [notes this came from](http://exorin.tumblr.com/post/148328428676/exorin-sidenote-to-this-post-and-its-really) first, though, it's still just porn so it's not super necessary.

‘You know Keptin,’ Chekov says, looking up at Kirk from beneath his too-long lashes, his teeth worrying at his lower lip for a moment and, you know, that move has never worked for Kirk but Chekov seems to know _exactly_ what he’s doing with it, 'Iwve been told that I am very good with my mouth.’  

 _Oh my god_ Kirk thinks, his fingers clenching on his knees if only to stop himself from threading them through Chekov’s hair and tugging, 'This is a terrible idea.’ is what he, eventually, says aloud.

'That does not sound like a no, Keptin.’

He moves slowly and Kirk knows that Chekov is giving him a chance to bow out of this, whatever this is, before things get really complicated… and he’s actually inordinately pleased that Chekov paid attention to that part of his _how to score women, aliens, and that cute guy at the bar_ seminar.

Chekov is still looking up at him while he leans forward – bringing his mouth so close to Kirk’s body that Kirk can feel the heat of his breath, his fingers are at the top edges of Kirk’s pants when Kirk finally says, 'That’s not a no, Ensign.’

.

Chekov’s mouth is so goddamn wet when he finally spreads his lips around the head of Kirk’s cock and starts swallowing him down, ’ _Oh fuck_.’ Kirk thinks, says, groans.

And Kirk isn’t sure what he expected from Chekov, but it’s not this – not the sweet, desperate sounds that Chekov is making around the weight in his mouth, or the way he just _keeps taking_ Kirk’s cock, sinking down onto him until Kirk can feel the clench of his throat and it takes fucking _everything_ for him to not thrust up further against that tightness.

He’s still digging his fingers into his own thighs, Chekov’s head bobbing over his cock so perfectly that he doesn’t want to even move just in case Chekov changes his mind – not that he’s really worried about that, not with the way Chekov is drooling around him, soaking his cock with spit and moaning like _nothing_ feels as good as his Captain filling him up.

Chekov’s fingers find his and he lifts Kirk’s hand, moving it until there’s soft curls underneath of Kirk’s palm and Chekov leans back, looking up at Kirk again before letting Kirk’s cock pop free from his lips with an obscenely wet sound, 'I will not break if you want to,’ he starts, pausing to lick the beading precome from the slit of Kirk’s cock and he speaks the rest of his words against the spit-slick head, 'be rough with me, _sir_.’

’ _Jesuschrist_ Chekov.’ Kirk swears, his fingers threading through Chekov’s hair until he’s got a good fistful of it and, god, he can’t actually stop himself from thrusting up into the dripping wet heat of Chekov’s mouth.

Chekov gags, twice, swallowing around the thick weight of Kirk’s cock until his throat adjusts to the size and then he’s sucking and mouthing his way as far down as he can, dragging his tongue along the underside until Kirk is close to shaking with how good it feels, 'Touch yourself Ensign.’ Kirk says, breathless, pulling Chekov’s head back just to look into his eyes while he watches his cock disappearing into that small mouth.

And Chekov _groans_ , smiling around Kirk’s cock with spit and precome dipping down his chin – there’s the sound of fabric being shoved away and it takes a few moments for Chekov to maneuver his way free of his pants before Kirk can hear the soft, wet noises of his hand moving  along his cock.

And, yeah, it doesn’t take Kirk much longer than that – his Ensign moaning and swallowing his cock while Chekov jerks up on his hips and fucks his leaking cock into the tight fist of his hand.

Kirk thrusts up into Chekov’s mouth once more as he comes and Chekov manages to take him all the way in, right until his nose is wedged up against Kirk’s stomach, his throat clenching around Kirk’s cockhead, letting the thick, warm, salt-sweet of Kirk’s come slide down his throat and licking his swollen lips for more when Kirk collapses back onto Chekov’s bed.

'Ah, _Keptin_ ,’ Chekov says, getting up just enough to crawl over Kirk’s body until he’s straddling Kirk’s hips and leaning back, 'I would like for you to watch me.’

And Kirk couldn’t have denied that request if he wanted to because his Ensign is looking positively wrecked, kneeling over him and fucking his leaking wet and straining cock into the tight circle of his fist – staring down at Kirk with his eyes blown black, his lips red and swollen, and his chin still soaked with spit and come.

'I want to make it an order,’ Kirk whispers, without realizing he’s spoken at all and Chekov smiles, dropping himself down to cover Kirk’s body with his own, his fist still moving fast over his cock, hips jerking forward, stuttering, and his mouth hovering over Kirk’s lips when Kirk says, ’ _come for me, Ensign_.’


	4. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Chekov Knows How To Get What He Wants

It started out pretty innocently, as far as Kirk’s concerned – he’d been hearing rumours of his young Ensign getting kicked out of quarters almost nightly, his balled up uniform shirt being thrown at him by various crew and, as far as Kirk was aware, it always seemed to end up with him wandering through the decks shirtless and sullen.

He’d caught him on one occasion and ushered him towards the mess hall, sitting down across from him and walking him step by step through his guide of getting laid (how to score women, aliens, and that cute guy at the bar) – well, his old guide at least, it’d been months since he, himself, had gotten anything more than the tight, familiar squeeze of his own fingers.

And, yeah, Kirk had felt pretty proud the first time he’d opened his door to a flushed, out of breath, and damn near glowing Chekov who just wanted to tell him, in great detail, what had just gone on – it became a pretty familiar rhythm between them after that, their late night talks (which were usually followed by Kirk fucking himself hard into his fist and trying not to picture his Ensign’s face).

Then, somehow unexpectedly, Chekov had used his own moves against him, a hand on Kirk’s thigh, a hot whisper against his ear, the promise of a drink with maybe more – the maybe more in this case being Chekov on his knees with his mouth stretched so wide around Kirk’s cock, taking him so deep and so well that Kirk had come in a matter of moments just like a goddamn teenager.

They’d gone back to the usual after that, with… okay, the _usual_  with a bit of a variation.

Chekov would come to his door for one of two reasons now – the first being that he’d just gotten laid in a way that he’d thought Kirk would appreciate (and Kirk did, oh, did he ever), and the second? Well, sometimes Chekov would show up and look at Kirk with those fucking _eyes_ while chewing on his lower lip and Kirk just could never seem to stop himself from pinning the kid to the wall and slowly, carefully taking him apart piece by piece until he was a shaking, drooling mess.

Then it became more often than not that Chekov would be at his door, only his door, which was fine with Kirk, was really great with Kirk up until the point where it wasn’t.

To his credit, Chekov took him backing out of their arrangement, whatever their _arrangement_ was, really well, ‘I’m the Captain,’ he’d said, trying to be careful of his words, his tone, his everything, 'there’s fraternization rules and I don’t want this to get complicated.’

'Of course Keptin, I understand.’

And that was that.

So opening the door of his quarters, several weeks later, to a sweat-slicked, flushed, and out of breath Chekov was more than a little unexpected.

'Chekov you,’ Kirk had started, his fingers clenched into fists just to keep himself from reaching out, 'you shouldn’t be here.’

'What is the matter Keptin? You don’t want to hear about the night Iwve had?’

And Kirk should have turned Chekov around, should have said _no, I’ll see you on the bridge in oh-eight-hundred hours_  and left it at that instead of just letting Chekov walk in like he was supposed to be there – if fact, he should have said fucking anything that wasn’t, 'Tell me.’

'I was thinking about what you had told me,’ is what Chekov starts with, getting close enough to Kirk that Kirk has to take a small step back just to stay out of the heat coming off of him, 'about experience and how I should be getting as much of it as I can, wherever I can.

'And I had been watching him for a few days, Keptin,’ he smiles, biting down against his still kiss-swollen lower lip for a moment before purposefully catching Kirk’s eyes again, 'I did all the things you told me to.’

'Why are you telling me all of this?’ Kirk asks, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of his sofa and he can’t stop himself from sitting down, looking up at Chekov.

'Did you not ask for me to? And, besides, I thought you would want to know how good I am at doing all the things you have taught me. Do you not want to hear the outcome of your advice anymore? You used to love hearing it.’

'Chekov-’

'Ah, Keptin, he was _so big_ , I can still feel how he stretched me,’ Chekov reaches forward, his hand lifting Kirk’s from where he’s digging his fingertips into his knees and Chekov tugs it back, leads Kirk to press his palm against his ass, 'can you feel how hot I am still?’

And Kirk can’t stop himself from pulling Chekov forward onto his lap while trying to ignore just how suddenly and irrationally angry and hard he is right now, 'Who was he.’ he says, damn near growling, his other hand on Chekov’s waist, moving around to the small of his back before slipping his fingers down under Chekov’s slacks and between his ass cheeks to press his fingertips into the lube-soaked stretch of Chekov’s worked-open hole, 'Who’d you let fuck you open before coming to me.’

'Hah,’ Chekov breathes out, his hands clenched in Kirk’s shirt, 'I did not think we did jealousy, Keptin.’

'We don’t.’ Kirk says, his fingers pressing in deeper, just enough to make Chekov arch up in his lap, two in and up to the second knuckle with Chekov pushing back against them, so spread already that Kirk can just twist and fuck them into the clenched-heat of Chekov with an easy slide, 'You’re mine already, aren’t you Ensign.’

And Chekov leans forward to brush his mouth up against Kirk’s when he says, 'You are being presumptuous.’

Their kiss is all tongue and teeth, hungry and wet with soft sighing sounds against each other, Kirk’s tongue licking into Chekov’s mouth and Chekov sucking on it until Kirk groans – and then Kirk curls his fingers inside of Chekov and doesn’t hide his smile when Chekov throws his head back with a gasp and moans, 'Ah, ah, Keptin, yes.’

'Bet you’re gonna feel _so good_ to push into,’ Kirk starts, dragging the words along Chekov’s jawline and up to his ear, 'it’s going to be so easy with you already so open, so hot, god, I should send him a gift basket for working you open so wide.’

'I have preference for proper scotch, not vodka like you all assume.’

And it takes Kirk a moment to understand – especially with the way Chekov shifts to kneel over him, rocking his hips back and forth to tug his pants down to his thighs and shifting just enough to get them all the way off – and Kirk groans, _ohmygod_ , when he realizes, 'How many fingers?’

'You are impossible Keptin,’ Chekov smiles, laughing under his breath with his hands on Kirk’s pants, working them open, 'I am attempting to get laid and all you want to be doing is talking? Ask me these questions after Iwve come.’

And that’s a request Kirk can get on board with, not that he has much of a choice with the way Chekov is stroking his newly freed cock and and biting down on his lower lip in concentration as he maneuvers himself over Kirk, dragging Kirk’s fingers from his body with an obscenely wet sound and lifting one of his legs to bend over Kirk’s shoulder and _jesuschrist_  Kirk had forgotten just how fucking  _flexible_  Chekov is.

The first slide is so easy, so wet, he’s still so tight and Kirk’s holding Chekov’s waist hard enough that he’s sure that there will be bruises in a few hours but it doesn’t matter because Chekov is sinking down onto his cock, taking him all into that clenching heat while making the most incredible sounds – gasping low and mumbling in Russian, saying yes over and over again with every little jerk of Kirk’s hips upwards.

'Please Keptin,’ he says, trembling all over when he lifts himself up just enough for Kirk’s cockhead to be the only thing still inside him, 'fuck me like I am yours.’

And Kirk groans, helping Chekov hold himself up while slamming his hips up to fuck back into the wide-stretch of Chekov’s hole, 'That won’t be hard,’ he’s already so close with Chekov’s body squeezing around him and Chekov’s cock leaking precome all over his shirt that it only actually takes a few solid minutes of hard and desperate thrusting before he’s spilling thick and hot into him and reaching between them fist Chekov’s cock, whispering ’ _you are mine._ ’ over the sound of Chekov coming. 


	5. Scotty/Chekov: The One With Handjobs In Engineering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For more notes on what led up to this please see [here.](http://exorin.tumblr.com/post/148491132426/tanjell-o-replied-to-your-post-tanjell-o-replied)

'Ah, Mr Scott, sir.' Chekov said, calling Scotty over from across the currently empty engineering deck -- Scotty looked up from where he was elbow deep in one of the opened consoles and inclined his head, disentangling his arm and wandering over to where Chekov was looking, uncharacteristically perplexed, at an opened circuit.

'What is it, lad?'

'I, ah, I know you will think it impossible, but I seem to have forgotten how this should be connected again.'

'You're in a gold shirt you know, you don't even have to be here.' Scotty starts, moving to stand beside the young ensign to look down at the task ahead of him, 'Not that I don't appreciate the company, but here, move a tick to the left there and I'll show you how it's done.'

'No Mr Scott,' Chekov says, firm and certain as he squeezes himself between Scotty and the console, taking Scotty's arms and pulling them tightly around his waist, 'I would like for you to _show me_ , it is the best way for me to learn.'

And Chekov can feel it when Scotty's body stiffens, he hears the quick, sharp intake of breath that Scotty holds for two point three seconds too long and he tries not to huff out a laugh at how careful Scotty is being at leaving space between them.

'Now please will you show me how to reconnect this, sir.'

Scotty has to shift closer, moving into the waves of heat that are coming off of Chekov (or, is it coming off of him? He can feel sweat beading on his brow and not just from concentration) to look over his shoulder, his forearms pressed against Chekov's slim waist and he feels it, doesn't even have to look, when Chekov turns to face him.

His breath is soft against Scotty's cheek and the corner of his mouth, 'You are very hot Mr Scott,' he says and Scotty swallows hard, refusing to turn to look at the ensign and he can feel the way his body trembles when Chekov exhales with a little puff of breath against Scotty's mouth, 'ah, no, I mean to say that your body is very warm today, more than usual.'

'Are... are you playing at something lad?'

Chekov leans back a little, his back pressing up against Scotty's chest and he bites down against his lower lip, Scotty can see it happening from the corner of his eye, 'I am not playing at anything Mr. Scott, I am just maybe hoping that there is more than engineering that I can be learning from you.'

'I... If you mean what I think you mean, you cannae be serious, I'm nearly twice your age.'

'Age is just experience, Mr Scott,' Chekov starts off, sounding a little too-like Spock while he shifts and turns in Scotty's arms just enough that Scotty can notice the hard press of Chekov's cock against his thigh, 'and I would like for you to show me yours, your experience, I mean,' and Scotty should definitely move away right now, but he turns to look at Chekov instead, their faces so close that the tips of their noses are almost touching -- Chekov's cheeks are flushed, his lower lip wet and red from where he's been biting it, his eyes wide and sparkling, 'I see you taking apart the Enterprise often, your hands and your steady fingers touching with such care and precision and I would like for your hands to be doing the same to me, sir.'

'This is... not a good idea, Ensign.'

'I think it is best idea, and you have not moved away. Though you should not be calling me Ensign when we are like this.' Chekov is smiling, his hips pushing forward to press his cock more insistently against Scotty's leg, 'I am going to kiss you now Mr Scott, ah, no, _Montgomery_.'

Chekov's mouth is warm when it presses to Scotty's, his lips sliding smooth and damp, with his tongue swiping easily into Scotty's sighing mouth -- Scotty's hands end up on his hips, fingertips pressing hesitantly at first and then, quickly, more firmly when Chekov makes a small moaning sound into his mouth.

And Scotty pulls him closer, trying not to think about how easy it is to move him -- how Chekov just lets himself be shifted into any position Scotty wants of him.

He ends up half sitting on the open console, his legs fitting easily around Scotty's waist, arms wound around Scotty's neck and mouth still open and wet and hot as he gasps when Scotty's hips align with his and their cocks press together for the first time.

'I could get in a a lot of trouble for this, lad.' Scotty says, even as his hand moves between their bodies to work open Chekov's uniform pants, 'Why me?'

Chekov huffs out a little laugh that breaks easily into a moan, his back arching and hips jerked up and forward when Scotty's fingers wrap around his thick, leaking cock, 'Ah, Mr, ah, Montgomery,' he _whines_ , looking down at where his cock is sliding through the tight circle of Scotty's fist, Scotty's thumb brushing over his wet cockhead in a way that makes Chekov cling desperately to his shoulders, 'is like I said, I see you with her and, ah, yes, wonder how well you could, ah, _can_  take me apart.'

And, _christ_ , Scotty suddenly wants nothing more than to take Chekov apart right now, wants to push him properly back against the console and shove away his clothes -- he wants to press his fingers into that hot, wet mouth just to see how hard Chekov would suck them, wants to fill the young ensign up with them, stretching him and working him open as slowly as he can just to watch the flush creep over his skin, wants to make him needy and desperate and begging for it but now is, frustratingly, not the time.

'You're going to come, and then' Scotty says, breathing hard, his own cock throbbing against Chekov's inner thigh -- he starts working his wrist faster, using his other hand to push the golden shirt up Chekov's chest, 'then you're going to let me finish my work.'

And he should stop there, leave it at this one time, but Chekov moans and clutches at him, his back arching up off the console, his whole body tensing right before Scotty's hand and Chekov's chest gets slicked with thick streams of come, 'And after I'm done here,' Scotty sighs, dragging his dry hand through Chekov's sweat-dampened curls and looking into those bright, hopeful eyes, 'oh, I'm going to regret this, I know it,' he continues, sliding his thumb over Chekov's kiss-swollen lower lip and groaning when Chekov takes that thumb into his mouth, 'I'm going to take you apart in all the ways you want.'


	6. Kirk/Sulu: The One With Handjobs In The Turbolift

Kirk’s heart is still hammering against his ribcage when he and Sulu step into the turbolift after their near-death fall to Vulcan’s surface, and after the horrible loss of Spock’s mother.

They’ve barely started moving when Sulu slams his fist against the emergency stop and grabs Kirk by the front panel of his blue flight-suit, dragging them together so hard and so fast that Kirk’s little sound of surprise gets swallowed by the heat of Sulu’s mouth.

And it’s a desperate kind of kiss, the kind that leaves your lips swollen and wet and your head spinning, you entire body going into overdrive, hands on faces and hips and pulling, grabbing, shoving each other back against the walls until you can’t breathe from it.

‘Sulu,’ Kirk says, gasping it out, pressed back against the lift with Sulu’s thigh pressed up between his legs and against Kirk’s rapidly hardening cock, a solid heat for him to grind down against, 'we have to get to the bridge.’

Sulu’s fingers are already pulling at the fastenings of Kirk’s flight-suit, hands shaking from the adrenaline, 'Shut up,’ he starts, biting down against Kirk’s lower lip before licking his tongue back into the heat of Kirk’s mouth, making a low, needy sound against him, 'shut up and give me this.’ and he’s got his hands on Kirk’s bare chest, pushing the suit down his shoulders, following the line of it’s opening down to get his fist wrapped around Kirk’s cock, 'Prove to me that we’re still fucking alive.’

And Kirk arches off the wall, pushing Sulu back and groaning against his hot, opened mouth – getting his hands on the openings of Sulu’s flight-suit and pulling at it hard enough to break the zipper, and _fuck it_ , he doesn’t care any more, one of these piece of shit suits is the reason he and Sulu were in free-fall over an imploding planet without a parachute.

'C'mon Kirk,’ Sulu encourages, his voice sounding shattered and desperate even as he’s jerking his fist rough and quick along the long, thick length of Kirk’s cock, 'don’t leave me falling here.’

And Kirk doesn’t know if that’s what Sulu meant to say or if it’s because of the shock of what happened, what’s currently _happening_ talking but he can’t help himself from replying with, 'I’ve got you, I’ll catch you.’ and saying it over and over again against Sulu’s mouth as his fingers finally get underneath that flight-suit to curl around the heat of Sulu’s cock.

It feels like both a lifetime and only a few seconds, the two of them tangled up together again, hands, fingers, fists working along the heat of each other’s cocks while they try to swallow each other whole with deep, sloppy, desperate kisses.

Kirk is gasping, clinging, and making this whining noise at the back of his throat that he’s never _ever_ heard himself make before – Sulu stroking him with his thumb smearing the beaded precome over his cockhead, moaning against Kirk’s mouth while he’s doing it, matching that needy sound, his hips thrusting up into Kirk’s fist with every slide.

And they’re both still talking against each other, even as Kirk arches again and spills soaking wet and hot between them, Sulu following so quickly that Kirk is sure that they’ve come at the exact same time while pressing the words between them like if they just keep saying them they’ll always be true. _We’re alive. I’ve got you._


	7. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Kirk Says Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually a second part to the Kirk/Sulu: The One With Handjobs In The Turbolift because of this headcanon I added to it after:
> 
> _just as a little side note to this but when Chekov finds out about his best friend and Captain reaffirming their being alive with messy handjobs in a turbolift he is just so frustrated and pouty: 'Hikaru, you have remembered - I hope, that I am the one who caught you both'_
> 
> _Sulu is like: 'aw, are you upset you didn’t get any?' and he`s joking around about it because he`s pretty sure that young, sweet-faced Chekov is just poking fun, right?_
> 
> _and Chekov turns to glare at Sulu, shouldering him as they’re walking to the bridge together, 'i am, at the very least i think, owed a thank you from both you and the Keptin'_
> 
> _oh. **oh.**_

‘So Ensign,’ Kirk starts, stepping into the turbolift alongside Chekov and waiting until the door has slid closed before continuing, 'I’ve been told that I owe you a _thank you_.’

Chekov looks up at Kirk, noticeably confused, brows furrowed and chewing on his lower lip as though he’s trying to remember what his Captain could have to thank him for, 'I do not know what you refer to Keptin, who is it who told you this?’

'Understandable that you’d forget, Vulcan feels so long ago now,’ Kirk says, reaching behind Chekov to hit the emergency stop panel with his palm, 'Sulu might have mentioned something a while back, but I couldn’t give you a proper thank you until now. Not with Starfleet regulations and all.’

'I still do not,’ he begins, stopping abruptly when Kirk raises an eyebrow and smiles, ’ _oh_.’

'Now, you may have been joking, which is totally fine. I can press this button and resume the lift,’ and he’s looking very serious now even though he’s still smiling, easy going and as open as ever, 'but if you weren’t, well, I’d be more than happy to show my appreciation for you saving my life.’

'Keptin I…’

'Up to you Ensign.’

One minute feels like at least a week, Chekov looking up at him with young, wide eyes, his lip getting red from how much he’s been chewing on it, his neck and cheeks flushed prettily and Kirk is _just_ about to resume the lift when Chekov says, 'I would very much like to see this, ah, your appreciation _Keptin_.’

Kirk laughs out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, immediately leaning down to press their mouths together.

And it’s not like it was with Sulu, the adrenaline is there, sure, but it isn’t the same, he hasn’t just almost been turned into a red smear across an already red planet – but it still makes his head spin, Chekov’s mouth soft and sweet and opening for the sweep of his tongue with the softest sigh Kirk has ever heard.

Chekov’s got hands fisted into the gold of Kirk’s shirt, pulling him closer and it’s just so easy for Kirk to put his hands on Chekov’s slim waist and lift him, maneuvering them until he’s got his back pressed up against the wall, 'Are you always such a needy little thing Ensign?’ he says, whispers it against the damp heat of Chekov’s mouth and smiles at the moan that escapes from Chekov’s throat.

'I have been told this, da, yes, sir.’

Kirk can feel the honest sigh of those words go straight to his cock, he groans and pulls away a little, watching Chekov’s eyes darken as he sinks slowly down to his knees, 'I want you to call me sir, just like that, always. But I know that you’ll say sir to me on the bridge one day and I’ll have to have you just like this again.’

'I think this is not a problem.’ Chekov says while he drags his fingers through Kirk’s hair, tugging experimentally just to see how Kirk will react and doing it again, harder, when Kirk exhales sharply, 'Now, please, show me your thanks.’

'Needy _and_ demanding, I knew there was a reason I liked you.’

And Kirk’s got his fingers working on the fastenings of Chekov’s uniform pants, undoing and pushing them down over the hard length of Chekov’s cock, thick and already so wet with precome that Kirk has to swallow down all the excess spit that floods his mouth.

Chekov’s fingers tighten in Kirk’s hair, his whole body trembling with the first swipe of Kirk’s tongue along his cockhead, his knees almost giving out when Kirk leans forward and takes him all the way down to the tight clenching back of his throat and Kirk moans, loudly, his mouth soaking wet, fucking drooling around the thick shove of Chekov’s cock between his lips.

'Ah, ah _Keptin_ , yes,’ Chekov is saying above him, arching and making the most wonderful little noises with every slide of Kirk’s head, 'da, yes, yes, please, I am so close to coming, sir.’

And _christ_ but Kirk has to reach down to stroke himself through the material of his pants at that promise, leaning back a little and opening his mouth up as wide as he can, feeling the pull of it at the corner of his lips and Chekov is immediately there, holding Kirk’s head and fucking himself into Kirk’s mouth until he’s coming so thick and warm and salt-sweet down the easy, open slide of Kirk’s throat.

Chekov stumbles back, falling back against the wall of the turbolift and sighing, his eyes blown black, breathing hard and watching his Captain rutting against the palm of his hand, 'Will you come for me Keptin.’ he says and it’s a such a statement, no, almost a demand, that Kirk can’t stop the sound he makes as he comes in his pants like a goddamn teenager.

And stands to kiss Chekov again, pressing the taste of his come into his mouth while reaching behind him to restart the lift, 'You know Ensign,’ Kirk smiles and licks into Chekov’s mouth once more just before the door slides open, 'I’m sure there are more things I should have thanked you for.’

'Da Keptin,’ Chekov grins and it’s sleepy and sated but still _so_ bright, 'I will make list of these for you.’


	8. Kirk/Chekov/Sulu: The One Where There Is No Plot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James T. Kirk: Dirty Talk Champ 2k16

‘Stop for a second there Lieutenant,’ is what Kirk says, kneeling around the tangled mess of Sulu and Chekov’s legs with Sulu completely bottomed out and buried right up to the hilt inside of Chekov’s tight, finger and cock-stretched hole, 'yeah, just stay like this. You think you can do that for me Mr. Sulu?’

'Sir?’ Sulu asks, questioning, his hips aching to fuck into the young navigator, his thighs trembling from the effort of not making Chekov’s voice break with every thrust – and Chekov is /whining, all needy and low, unable to move with Kirk’s forearm braced against his lower back, his face hidden against the slope of Sulu’s neck.

'Hold him open for me.’

Sulu reaches back, his fingers sliding from where they’ve been digging into Chekov’s slim waist to get a good grip on his ass cheeks instead, pulling them apart while Chekov drags his teeth and tongue against Sulu’s throat – and it takes everything in him to not give in to the soft, low way Chekov is saying his name over and over, begging him to move.

And then Kirk is leaning forward, his breath brushing over Sulu’s cock and where he’s pushed all the way into the tight pucker of Chekov’s hole, Sulu groans before Chekov even really realizes what’s happening – his whole body going rigid at the first spit-soaked stroke of Kirk’s tongue along the both of them.

’ _Fuck_ , Kirk.’ Sulu gasps, the tremble in his thighs turning into full on shaking, 'I’m not going to be able to keep this up if you keep doing _that_.’

Kirk smiles and both of them can feel it, his tongue licking over them again, his mouth so wet that he’s drooling over where they’re connected, getting Sulu’s cock soaked with his spit and he can just barely make out Chekov sighing _Keptin_ like it’s the only word he can remember.

'What’d you think Ensign,’ Kirk’s saying, mouthing the words against the heat of Chekov’s stretched out hole, 'you want to let the Lieutenant come inside you, let me fuck it back into you with my tongue?’

And Chekov makes a shattered sound, his tight pucker squeezing around the thick stretch of Sulu’s cock filling him up, 'Da, da, _yes_ , _oh_ please Keptin.’ he’s moaning and shaking and so close to lost when Kirk reaches up to play with the sweat-dampened curls at the back of his neck at the same time that he forces the tip of his tongue in alongside the throb of Sulu’s cock.

Sulu fucking _arches_ , somehow lifting both Chekov and Kirk with the intensity of his orgasm, his cock pulsing beneath Kirk’s tongue with the taste of Chekov’s hole getting salty-sweet and so, so soaking wet - and Kirk works his tongue in further, licks his way inside as Sulu slowly pulls free.

And he’s still holding Chekov open for the Captain, kissing along Chekov’s jaw and stroking his hair while Chekov whines and gasps and pushes back against Kirk’s tongue working hard to push Sulu’s come back into him, ’ _Please_ Keptin, more, please.’

'Yeah?’ Kirk starts, fucking his tongue back in deeply for good measure before shifting up and leaning over Chekov’s back to breathe against his ear, two of his fingers replacing his tongue and sliding easily into the stretch-out heat of Chekov’s hole, 'You ready for your Captain’s cock now Ensign?’

And Kirk moves back, kneeling behind Chekov and looking at Sulu, 'Get him up here so you can watch Mr. Sulu.’ he says and together, he and Sulu, move Chekov back so that he can straddle Kirk’s thighs, Kirk’s cock sinking so quickly, so deeply into Chekov’s body that the navigator cries out, his cock jerking up against his stomach, leaking wetly, and his head falling back against Kirk’s shoulder.

Sulu crawls forward, reaching his hand out to get his fingers wrapped around Chekov’s thick, aching cock, 'No Lieutenant, I want to see him come just from having his Captain’s cock up his ass,’ he starts, his hands on Chekov’s hips while Chekov slowly starts moving, riding his cock, ’ you think you can do that for me Mr. Chekov?’

’ _Jesus_ Kirk.’ Sulu says quietly even as Chekov moans out a _yes_ , _sir_ – Sulu’s still-blown eyes checking out every detail of Chekov’s sweat-slicked body as he trembles, struggling to fuck himself on Kirk’s cock, his fingers clenched on his thighs just to keep himself from tugging on his desperate cock.

Sulu is trying to stay absolutely still, his hands _aching_ to touch, both him and Kirk watching Chekov, who is the only person really moving in the room, while he’s making all these sweet, low noises at the back of his throat, his eyes squeezed shut, thighs slipping open, impossibly wide around Kirk’s knees, ’ _Please_.’ he’s moaning, breathless and needy.

And Kirk finally gives in, pushing them both forward with a shove of his hips, his cock angling into him and it leaves Chekov gasping and arching – his face turned to the side against the sheets and fingers fisting into the fabric while he lets Kirk fuck into him, hard and fast, the entire frame of the bed moving along with it.

'I want you to know,’ Kirk says, shifting his hips again when he leans over Chekov, hitting a place inside Chekov that makes his navigator cry out again, loud and broken,  'that after this, after you’ve come,’ and Kirk’s breath is so hot against Chekov’s ear, 'I’m going to fill you up even more,’ and he’s pressing his hand between their bodies, his thumb slipping between Chekov’s ass cheeks and down to where Chekov’s clenching hole is surrounding his cock, 'gonna work my fingers and tongue back into your sweet little hole,’ and Chekov is already so close when that thumb squeezes in alongside Kirk’s cock he can barely even hear Kirk over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, his back arching, ass shoving back against the firm shove, 'gonna taste Sulu and myself until you’re hard again and just begging to be fucked by us,’ and _jesuschrist_ when Chekov comes he clenches so tight around Kirk’s cock that Kirk can barely even pull out to thrust in again, his next words rushing out in a gasping breath as his cock throbs and spills into that perfect heat, 'you think you could take us at the same time?’


	9. Kirk/Chekov/Sulu: The One With Double Penetration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some accidental sweetness. implied Kirk as third party to Chekov/Sulu's relationship.   
> continuation of the last chapter (so, if you're reading these in order you're golden!)

Chekov can’t stop trembling, laying beneath Kirk with Sulu still half-wedged under him and it’s hard to breathe with how close they both are, how hot and solid –  and Sulu has his hand pressed beneath Chekov’s left knee, holding it up and keeping his legs spread wide for Kirk while his mouth works wet kisses along the curve of Chekov’s sweat-slicked neck.

And Kirk, _well_ , Kirk is holding himself up with his hand braced on the mattress beside Chekov’s head, looking down at him like he’s the most interesting thing on the entire ship right now, watching Chekov’s face changing between not enough and _toomuch_ with his fingers down between their bodies – sinking them easily into him, over and over and two, then three deep into the wet, stretched mess of Chekov’s hole.

‘I think I could do this all night, what about you Sulu?’ Kirk says, dragging the words over Chekov’s swollen mouth and his lips taste like spit and come and lube, like _sex_ – he slides his fingers out, just briefly, collecting the come that’s dripping down the insides of Chekov’s thighs and pushing it all back into him, making him moan, long and low, sounding utterly wrecked.

'Can I?’ Sulu asks, eyes still darkened from his earlier orgasm and half lidded when he catches Kirk’s eyes over Chekov’s shoulder and sucks two of his fingers into his mouth to answer the rise of Kirk’s eyebrow – and Kirk smiles, watching Chekov’s small mouth fall open when Sulu’s fingers twist in alongside his own.

Chekov is muttering to himself and Sulu thinks that it’s possibly the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, even if he can’t understand a word of it, all Russian sounds and words falling out, broken and sleepy and needy from between Chekov’s lips.

'You think you’re ready for us _sweetheart_.’ Kirk says, no, whispers and Chekov huffs a little laugh under his breath, curving his back and somehow managing to shift his legs open even wider, 'Is that a yes then?’

'Da Keptin, yes,’ Chekov turns his face towards Kirk, pressing his mouth to just below Kirk’s ear, 'you said you wanted to hear me beg, no? And here you are, being, how is it they say? Ah, yes, sentimental.’

And before Kirk can respond with what is, no doubt, a clever and filthy remark, Chekov is turning to look at Sulu instead, kissing him hard and needy with his tongue licking into the heat of Sulu’s mouth and Chekov is reaching down, shifting his body enough that he can get a hold of Sulu’s wrist and pull – Sulu moans into Chekov’s mouth, tugging his fingers free from Chekov’s thoroughly soaked hole, slowly and growling, low, when Chekov’s hand wraps around his cock, lining himself up and sinking onto it with a long exhale against Sulu’s mouth.

'Fuck, _Pavel_.’ Sulu sighs and jerks his hips up until he’s completely shoved inside the heat of Chekov’s hole – and Kirk’s fingers are still there, two of them, keeping Chekov stretched wider than Sulu could have managed on his own, feeling weird and foreign against his cock, but so fucking good that Sulu has to reach past Chekov to grab Kirk by the neck and drag their mouths together, 'Need to feel more of you.’ he says, biting down against Kirk’s lower lip and fucking _moaning_ when Kirk fucks his fingers in once more, stroking along Sulu’s cock inside of Chekov’s tight little hole.

'You don’t have to ask me twice, Lieu– Hikaru.’ Kirk says, hesitating over bringing first names in to the bedroom, knowing that it makes it, suddenly, so much more real than just whatever it’s been for the last several months – him added in to whatever they’ve had going, letting him take charge every now and again.

And Chekov smiles, a soft little half smile that only Kirk can see – he reaches down, hooking his hands under each of his knees and pulling back, bending himself almost in half and Sulu has to shift a little underneath him to stay fully seated in that tight, clenching heat, 'Are you sure Keptin?’ Chekov asks and it takes Kirk more than a moment to know what he’s asking, distracted by the way Chekov looks, sweat-soaked and already leaking Kirk and Sulu’s come from around the new push of Sulu’s cock filling him up.

'Ask me again Pavel.’

'Please Keptin,’ Chekov starts, moaning low when Sulu fucks into him slowly, knowing that it’s because the pilot just can’t help himself, 'I want you and Hikaru both in me, please, _James_.’ and Kirk’s groan matches the sound of Chekov’s.

Kirk moves forward, still keeping back, fitting himself between the spread legs of his helm officers, his fist working over the long length of his thick cock a few times before he’s pressing his cockhead up against the loose, but still _so_ tight, ring of Chekov’s hole and pushing forward – Chekov swears in Russian and Kirk doesn’t understand the language but he knows that tone of voice and he leans closer, just a bit, to run his fingers through Chekov’s curls, 'We don’t have to do this.’ he says, and means it.

'No, no, I want this, keep going, please.’

Sulu is still again, just like he had been when Kirk had ordered it of him earlier, barely breathing this time for fear of doing something wrong – his hands sliding up and down Chekov’s sides, his mouth kissing up along Chekov’s jawline as Kirk inches forward.

Chekov is making the most broken noises from the back of his throat, little moans and a low-pitched keening sound, his mouth open as he pants, his tongue dipping out to wet his lips occasionally – he’s shaking all over and Sulu slides his hands underneath of Chekov’s legs to take over the effort of holding them up for him.

And Kirk’s cock feels so huge against Sulu’s that he can’t believe that Chekov’s tight little hole is even capable of taking both of them at once, but Kirk’s moving tortuously slow, just a fraction of thick heat at a time, letting the navigator accommodate for the stretch inch by inch.

'Almost there, _ohgod_ you feel so good like this,’ Kirk’s saying and both Sulu and Chekov can feel the tremble in their Captain’s thighs as he finally sinks fully into Chekov’s body – his trembling passes through to both of them and they’re sighing at the same time, 'If we get you off,  we probably don’t even need to move,’ Kirk adds, moving his hand to wrap around Chekov’s cock, touching him back to full, thick hardness, 'I’ve never felt anything like the way you tighten up when you’re coming.’

'You do not ever stop with the talking, do you James?’ Chekov asks and Sulu’s quiet chuckle reverberates all the way down to his cock, and they’re all moaning together again from even that small vibration.

And then Kirk huffs out a laugh too, causing the same reaction to build in them all, 'I’m literally balls deeps in you Pavel, you can call me Jim.’

'Okay, ah, that is fine,  _Jim_ , now, move please.’

It takes a few tries for Kirk and Sulu to build any sort of rhythm, both of them moving together before figuring out that they need to move separate – Kirk ends up with his hands on Chekov’s ass, holding him up while Kirk stays put, his cock wedged in all the way with Sulu doing the work, thrusting against him, his cock sliding against Kirk with every jerk of his hips, sinking into Chekov’s stretched-out hole.

Chekov is making little throaty noises again all mixed up with _Hikaru_ and _Jim_ , his own fist working over his leaking cock until he’s cursing, in Russian again, and streaking his chest with thick, hot, white lines of come.

Sulu swears just at the same time Kirk’s hips thrust forward, just a little bit, he can’t help himself – Chekov’s body clenching down so hard around them that there’s nothing they can do but arch and moan and come into the heat of him, filling Chekov up so much that it’s spilling out of him, soaking his thighs.

And Chekov _aches_ when they slowly slip out, the sound of it so wet, so filthy that Chekov half wishes that he’d been recording it to keep forever, 'Kepin,’ he starts, frowning for a moment before correcting himself, 'Jim, you are not leaving tonight.’

'Sulu?’

'Hikaru. And he’s right Jim, you’re staying with us.’


	10. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Chekov Tops

Kirk has only just started filing the boring, standard mission report from earlier, sitting at his desk and already looking for ways to procrastinate when there’s a notification from his door, ‘Enter.’ he says, barely looking up until Chekov is all the way across the room and standing just to the side of him, his hands in front of his waist, fidgeting with the hem of his golden shirt, 'Yes ensign?’

'Ah Keptin, I am very sorry to interrupt,’ Chekov starts and Kirk immediately notices the little half-smile that’s pulling at the corner of his navigator’s mouth, 'but you looked, hm, tense on the bridge earlier and I was wondering if I could, maybe, help?’

'You know, you’re terrible at this,’ is Kirk’s reply as he pushes back from the desk, spinning his chair to face Chekov properly and sighing when Chekov immediately sinks to his knees before him, 'you could at least pretend like you’re waiting for an order.’

'I am just, what do you always say?’ Chekov grins, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, his eyes bright when he looks up at Kirk from under his lashes and he and Kirk speak the words _young and impatient_ at the same time.

'You are certainly that.’

His fingers are already sliding underneath the waistband of Kirk’s uniform slacks, pulling them easily over Kirk’s hips when his Captain lifts for him and down his legs, 'You do not mind these traits of mine and you are also impatient _Keptin_.’ Chekov says, ignoring the little huff of indignant laughter from Kirk at being insinuated as _old_ and paying attention to the feel of Kirk’s hands sliding into his curls instead.

'You’re lucky you’re so good with your mouth _Ensign_.’

Chekov licks his lips again, saying something in Russian under his breath (and Kirk doesn’t understand it, but he knows that tone and assumes it’s something along the lines of:  _it is you who is lucky_ ) before he makes sure that Kirk is watching him when he leans forward to drag his mouth, open and hot and wet, along the length of Kirk’s cock, not closing his mouth over the thick swell of Kirk’s cockhead until Kirk’s fingers are properly threaded through his hair.

Kirk groans, tugging just hard enough that Chekov tilts his head back while he works his mouth down Kirk’s cock, letting Kirk see him take the whole length between his lips, his throat clenching, exhaling sharply through his noise and just /holding there – he swallows again, somehow getting his lips around even more of the base of Kirk’s cock and Kirk is shoved so deeply into Chekov’s mouth that the navigator’s nose is pressed right up against Kirk’s stomach.

’ _Fuckingchrist_.’ Kirk _moans_ , sliding forward in his chair until his ass is barely on the seat, a hand slipping from Chekov’s hair so that he can drape his arm over the back of the chair, clinging to it for some kind of support – Chekov’s head bobbing over his cock, sucking him all the way down over and over and hollowing out his cheeks, his tongue licking along the slit at the tip of Kirk’s cock.

And Kirk is already so goddamn close to coming when Chekov smiles around the wide stretch of Kirk’s cock filling up his mouth that when Chekov reaches to press behind the heavy weight of Kirk’s balls, fingertips already warm and slicked and teasing up against Kirk’s tight, puckered hole that he jerks up, coming so thick and wet into Chekov’s mouth that Chekov can’t swallow it all and just lets it leak out from the corners of his lips.

'Okay, I am the lucky one.’ Kirk sighs out, chuckling at the surprised look that Chekov gives him.

'We are not done yet Keptin.’ Chekov says, dragging his teeth along Kirk’s inner thigh when Kirk raises an eyebrow, and the move is to distract Kirk from the way his long, slender fingers are pushing more insistently at Kirk’s hole, 'I want to see how you work.’

Kirk laughs again, a little breathlessly this time, one of his legs shamelessly lifting to bend over the armrest to let Chekov’s fingers slip in further, 'Yeah Ensign? You gonna take me apart like all of your other toys?’

And Chekov actually _shushes_ him, his brows furrowed in concentration.

'Alright Mr. Chekov, take your ti—’ Kirk starts, his voice cracking into a low moan on the last word, hips shoving down against the curl of Chekov’s fingertips and he doesn’t know what he’s expecting when he looks down at Chekov who’s watching him intently now, his chin still wet with Kirk’s come – and Chekov is twisting his fingers in the same pattern again and smiling, wide and pleased when Kirk’s body reacts in the same way as before.

And Kirk has never heard that sound come from him before.

Chekov’s fingers are _incredible_ – slender and skilled, working in and out of Kirk’s tight hole, stretching and curving, making Kirk’s back arch up from where he’s almost boneless against the chair, getting him hard again from just the way he’s stroking into him, ’ _Christ!_ Don’t stop that.’ Kirk gasps, hitching his other leg over Chekov’s shoulder and dropping his hand back into Chekov’s hair, twining Chekov’s sweet curls around his fingers.

'But, ah, I do not want you to come again until I am inside of you Keptin.’ Chekov is saying and it’s hard for Kirk to hear those words over the way his own voice is coming out of his throat in shattered, desperate moans, 'If you would like that, that is.’

Kirk is, at least, vaguely aware of saying yes, yes _yes_ and still saying it when Chekov moves into a crouch that can only be possible because of how young and _flexable_ he is, Kirk’s leg on his shoulder forcing Kirk’s body to bend and he’s barely on his chair still – Chekov’s hand braced on the back of the chair, leaning over Kirk and Kirk has no idea how Chekov is balanced like that, only knows that his navigator’s fingers are slipping out from his stretched hole and being replaced with the thick, wet head of Chekov’s cock.

And Kirk isn’t sure what Chekov is whispering against his mouth, he’s either too gone to make out words anymore or it’s Russian, but either way it sounds fucking _filthy_ and it’s making his whole body tremble – or maybe that’s because of the sweet, sharp, shallow thrusts of Chekov fucking into him and driving up against that same spot his twisted fingers had hit.

Chekov is still forcing those throaty, never heard before noises from Kirk’s throat, licking his tongue into Kirk’s mouth at every opportunity and Kirk feels like he might black out from how oversensitive he’s feeling, from how hard his cock is again – curved up against his stomach and leaking wetly against his skin and _christ_ but Chekov isn’t even going to have to touch it at this rate.

When Chekov grunts against his cheek, kissing the corner of his mouth and comes so hard that he nearly topples them both over the chair, Kirk can’t help it, has to follow along – he’s arching and cursing and fucking _shouting_ , clenching his fingers in Chekov’s hair so hard that the navigator is absolutely going to be feeling that for days, his heel digging down against Chekov’s shoulder hard enough to bruise and Chekov’s murmuring against his lips, urging him on until Kirk’s just an absolute wreck beneath him.

.

'Where the fuck did that come from.’ Kirk says after, when they’re laying on his floor, too tired to even crawl over to Kirk’s bed, his voice sounding raw and tired and /ruined.

'You looked very tense on the bridge, sir and I thought, maybe, that I might know how to help.’ Chekov smiles, looking at Kirk, his eyes shining brightly when Kirk laughs quietly, 'I did good work, da Keptin?’

'You’re a fast learner Ensign, you _always_ do good work.’


	11. Scotty/Chekov: The One With Life Affirming Handjobs

Chekov is flushed and out of breath by the time he gets down to Engineering – it’s been less than 48 hours since Kirk died and then returned to them through McCoy’s medical prowess (and the breaking of his Hippocratic Oath:  _I must not play at God_ ), and he’s only just finished his part of reporting what had happened with the sabotage – he’s still dressed in his grey dress uniform from the Official Inquiry when he bursts into Scotty’s office.

‘I almost broke your ship and you and the Keptin almost died and then the Keptin _did_ die and we all almost died.’ he says, all in one breath, barely registering the door sliding shut behind him or how he’s made it from the doorway all the way over to Scotty’s desk.

'Whoa there lad, slow down. It’s okay.’

'It is _not_ okay Mr. Scott,’ Chekov replies immediately and puts his hands on either side of Scotty’s face, holding him still and bending down to lean very close, close enough that Scotty can feel the erratic puffs of Chekov’s breath against his lips, 'it is _not_ okay, we could have died and you would have not known.’

Scotty will also never know what he would have said to that because Chekov doesn’t give him a moment to ask or answer or _breathe_ – his mouth is desperate and Scotty can _just_ register the needy little noise that’s coming from the back of Chekov’s throat, the fingers on his cheeks stroking along his jaw and tilting his head a little to the side for when Chekov licks into his mouth and Scotty knows that he should stop this but his heart is hammering in his chest and all he can do is reach out to steady himself with a hand on Chekov’s slim waist and one tangled into his soft curls.

Chekov makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a sigh and a moan and fits himself between Scotty and the desk, 'Please.’ he whispers in-between swipes of their tongues and Scotty stands in response, slowly, without breaking the contact – his hand dropping from Chekov’s waist to reach behind him and shift all of the paperwork, the tools, the pieces of projects he’s been working on, pushing them until there’s enough room for Chekov to hop up on the edge of the desk.

His hands move from Scotty’s face to the clasps of his dress jacket, pulling at them until he can shove it off and Scotty’s already tugging the shirt Chekov is wearing underneath out from his grey slacks – Chekov’s breath stutters and he moans, long and low, when Scotty’s hands slide up his stomach, calloused fingertips learning the shape of his body, brushing across nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and index fingers until Chekov is close to panting.

Chekov’s knees close against Scotty’s hips, his legs wrapping behind Scotty and pulling him closer, grinding their bodies together and biting down on his lower lip to keep from being too loud, 'No lad, there’s no one else here,’ Scotty says and it might be true, the Enterprise is docked and as far as he knows the repairs haven’t officially started yet, 'you can be as loud as you’d like.’ and Chekov is dragging him down until Scotty has to remove a hand from under Chekov’s shirt just to brace himself against the desk.

He doesn’t get to hear just how loud the young ensign can be until he’s worked Chekov’s slacks open and pushed his hand beneath, his fingers stroking down Chekov’s cock once before wrapping around the thick length and fisting him firmly – Chekov’s back arching up off the desk and Scotty’s not sure what he’s shouted but he’s willing to put money down on it translating to something along the lines of _fuck yes_.

And Scotty’s glad that Chekov’s reaction is to immediately reach forward and tug at his belt because there’s no way Scotty wants to worry about anything other than jerking his hand up and down along Chekov’s hard, throbbing cock, and Chekov is cursing some more in Russian with every stroke of Scotty’s thumb through the precome beading on his cockhead, his normally steady hands fumbling to get Scotty’s pants open.

Chekov is close to whining, making all of these sweet little noises from his throat and stretching his free arm out behind him to grasp at the edge of the desk, holding onto it with the same determination that Scotty saw when he’d saved Kirk and Scotty from falling – his hips thrusting forward, sliding his cock through the tight fist of Scotty’s fingers around him while finally, _finally_ getting his hand into Scotty’s pants to pull free the engineer’s cock.

'More, more please.’ is what Chekov says, mouthing the words along Scotty’s jawline and down to take his mouth again with a messy, needy, open kiss.

And Scotty gets one knee up on the desk, Chekov’s legs spreading impossibly wide to accommodate him between them, and he’s leaning over Chekov with his hand between their bodies, his fingers stretching to wrap around both of their cocks at once, stroking them together while looking down at Chekov – at his flushed face, his opened and kiss swollen lips, the way his sweat-dampened curls stick to his forehead. And his eyes – bright and wide and getting glassy with tears and he’s watching Scotty like he’s memorizing every moment of detail between them, like this can’t be possible, like he’s dreaming or he’s died.  

'I’m here, I’ve got you.’ Scotty whispers against Chekov’s mouth, his hand squeezing in a way that makes Chekov moan loudly and arch up beneath him, 'We’re both alive and I’m not going anywhere.’ and Chekov keeps his eyes open when he comes, his hips jerking up, soaking Scotty’s hand and the space between their chests with thick, warm lines, 'Yeah, that’s a good lad.’ Scotty is saying, groaning, trying to keep himself upright as he slides through his wet fist and follows Chekov over the edge.

.

'How long?’ Scotty asks, eventually, his breath barely evened out and genuinely curious, his clean fingertips tracing along Chekov’s lower lip and he smiles softly, when Chekov kisses them, one at a time, as they pass across his mouth and it’s all the answer Scotty really needs.


	12. Hikaru/Pavel/Ben: The One With Love And Sex And Happy Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this shall henceforth be known as the sappiest bit of sap that i've ever written. also, totally the fault of [this headcanon.](http://exorin.tumblr.com/post/148802122571/tanjell-o-imagine-sulu-introducing-chekov-to)

He and Pavel have never slept together – well, not in a way that he would ever feel guilty about at least. They’ve certainly had stay-overs and, hell, there was a while there where they pretty much lived in the same quarters (it’s a long story), they’ve stayed up all night talking and fallen asleep with their heads on shoulders or on each other’s laps more times than he can count but they’ve never, you know, had sex.

So, he’s not sure why he feels so nervous and guilty the first time he introduces Pavel to Ben.

Maybe because it’s so important to him that they get along? Pavel is the closest thing he has to home when they’re off in Deep Space on the Enterprise, they know everything about each other, and he only ever needs to look at Pavel to know that they’re on the same wavelength.

And Ben? Well, Ben was an unexpected but so very, _very_ welcome addition during the downtime after the whole, horrible Khan incident – and he’s never fallen for someone that hard and wonderfully before. It had felt like forever, in the best possible way, the first time he’d ever even spoken to the man.

So, yeah, there’s a bit at stake.

But they get along famously, right off the bat, because of course they do.

Pavel is all smiles and Ben wants to hear every single detail of his life aboard the Enterprise – and Pavel tells all right away, much to his frustration because no, Ben does not need to hear about that first day when he’d failed to warp them out alongside all of the other ships, ‘Ah, but you saved us all Hikaru!’ Pavel says, looking at him like he’s composed of all that’s good in the universe.

He sees the raised eyebrow that Ben is giving while looking back and forth between he and Pavel and something squeezes uncomfortably in his chest for a moment, worried that that look has somehow ruined it all.

Later that night, after Pavel has fallen asleep on Ben’s couch (because he made the ridiculous suggestion just before leave that Pavel should crash with them), when they’re in bed together kissing softly and touching like they’re both scared that their time together isn’t ever going to be enough Ben says, 'Do you love him?’ and he doesn’t really hear the breath that hitches in his throat but knows that Ben has because Ben is looking at him so seriously now.

'He’s my best friend.’ is what he says, quietly, and it’s true.

'It’s okay Hikaru,’ Ben is kissing him again, gentle, chaste, sweet, 'I like him too.’

'You… like him?’

'He’d fight tooth and nail for you, I can see it,’ and Ben is smiling, head shaking at his confused expression, 'I can see it and I’d trust him to take care of you. When I can’t be there.’

'Ben, I don’t know what-’

'I’m saying that you can keep him. Just like you can keep me.’

'You’re what? Offering to… share me?’ He says, pulling away from Ben a little because, okay, no, what’s even happening here – he just wants to kiss more and fall asleep in Ben’s arms while they have the time together but instead they’re talking about Pavel and Ben and him in a way that is far too calm, 'Is this because you _want_ him? Am I not enough?’

And Ben laughs, not maliciously but kind of quietly like the shock of what he’s said is just too much and Ben puts a hand on his cheek, strokes fingers along his jaw and kisses him again, 'You are _more_ than enough for me, my love, but I’ve seen that look,’ and Ben shushes him before he even has the chance to object, 'the one the two of you shared in the kitchen. I would rather share you than lose you but it’s more than that,’ another kiss, 'because I’m not worried about losing you but one day Pavel is going to look at you like that and tell you what he’s been feeling all this time and I don’t want you to think, even for a second, that you have to make that choice. This is the big, shiny future Hikaru and you can have everything you want and need and not miss out on any of it. He’d take care of you, out there,’ and he can’t look away from this gorgeous man who’s offering more than he’d ever believe another person capable of, 'and I can already tell that he’d always bring you back to me.’

'Are you sure?’ he leans in against Ben’s hand, kisses his palm and tries to ignore how fast he went from _he’s my best friend_  to _can I really have this_.

'Yes.’ Ben smiles and he could fall in love with that smile every day for the rest of his life, 'Also I think he’d be great in bed.’

.

Pavel, it turns out, takes it remarkably well when it’s brought up and he wonders if it’s because Pavel had already realized that whatever was growing between them was love and knew that this was somehow, magically, wonderfully a possibility.

'Ben,’ Pavel says, smiling like this had all been some kind of elaborate set-up and standing across from he and Ben, 'would you mind if I kissed your boyfriend now? I have been bothered by this for months.’

He really feels like he should have a say in this but Ben’s already nodding, matching Pavel’s smile with a hand pressed to his back, pushing him forward and towards Pavel, 'Please do.’

Pavel is warm and sweet and easy to kiss.

His head is already swimming at the first swipe of tongue into his mouth, Pavel’s hands on his waist and he can hear the sigh in Pavel’s throat like this was worth all of the wait – and Ben is somewhere close behind him, close enough that he can feel Ben’s hand on the small of his back and Ben’s breath, soft, against his neck, 'If this is too much, just let me know Hikaru.’

And, god, it _should_ be too much – he’s not sure how the three of them managed to get from the living room and into the bedroom, just like he’s not sure when Pavel’s tongue became Ben’s or when their hands started working together on getting him undressed.

He’s pretty sure he’s coming apart at the seams here, laying on the bed he shares with Ben with his face pressed down against the pillow, drooling and close to sobbing with just how good it all is – Pavel has at least two fingers inside him, wet and long and as talented at making him moan and writhe as they are at setting the Enterprise’s course through uncharted space.

And Ben is there too, behind him and close to Pavel – he can hear Ben speaking quietly, telling Pavel where to press and how hard, a hand on his lower back again and one, no doubt, wrapped around Pavel’s wrist, leading, showing, teaching.

'Would you like him inside you Hikaru?’ Ben is saying, crawling up the mattress to press against his side and he’s panting with how much he wants it, 'You should see him.’ and he can picture it already even if Ben wasn’t actively describing the scene – just, Pavel being Pavel, curious and determined and clever, knowing exactly what to do, learning fast all the ways to break him apart and put him back together.

'He would,’ Pavel is nodding, he doesn’t need to look to know it, 'I can feel how much he needs it now. Ben, can I please?’ and he’s saying _yes_ against the pillow, fisting the sheets and pushing back against Pavel’s twisting fingers for more.

'Not like this.’

Pavel’s fingers stop immediately, pulling from his body slowly, sounding obscenely wet – and he makes the saddest, most desperate noise he’s ever heard come from his throat just before Ben is gently rolling him over, showing Pavel just how flushed, how needy he is and helping Pavel to lift one of his already trembling legs up and over Pavel’s shoulder with the other falling open around Pavel’s waist.

And watching the way Pavel pushes into him, careful and achingly slow, makes his heart slam against his ribcage – but Ben’s right beside him, pressed up against his thigh, cock hard and grinding against the pressure there and he’s already soaking wet when Ben’s fingers wrap around his cock, circling into a fist and giving him something to thrust up into.

'You can take your time, if you want to, Pavel.’ Ben says and if he could still speak he’d be saying _no, no please fuck me hard and fast, please don’t go slow it’s all too much_  but his voice is raw and his throat is tired and so he just looks up at his best friend, at Pavel who has always known all there is to know about him and rocks his hips back to say as much as he can without words.

And Ben huffs out a laugh that says everything.

Pavel doesn’t go slow.

He’s already too close to the edge before Pavel even really starts to build to a rhythm and it only takes a few deep thrusts before he’s coming hard enough that the edges of his vision go fuzzy – he can hear Pavel saying his name, crying it out like it’s _everything_ and Ben is pressing kisses against his chest, his face, the corner of his mouth, telling him in words and in more than words that he’s loved.

.

'Told you.’ Ben’s voice is sleepy, sated, low.

'What?’ and he’s only half awake, Ben pressed up to his back and Chekov curled, fast asleep, against his chest and he’s got fingers in Chekov’s soft curls in a way that feels familiar and new.

'That he’d be great in bed.’ Ben smiles and he can feel it on his shoulder, 'And that he’d take care of you.’


	13. Sulu/Kirk: The One With Roleplay. A Cadet and A Captain.

‘Permission to come aboard.’

'You’re the one who wanted to meet here, Ji-’ Sulu starts, turning to face Kirk, who’s still standing in the turbolift, dressed in his Cadet Reds with his head down, fidgeting with his hands in a very un-Kirk-like way, 'What are you doing?’

'The Academy sent me, I thought they would have let you know,’ Kirk pauses, glancing up at Sulu with his bright blue eyes from under his lashes, 'Captain Sulu.’

And Sulu definitely stumbles over his tongue, his words, and almost his feet for a moment, trying to ignore the way his cock immediately fills out at the sound of Kirk saying _Captain_.

'Permission to come aboard?’ Kirk repeats, giving Sulu a small, frustratingly knowing smile.

'Granted, Cadet.’ Sulu says when he finally remembers how to breathe – he moves away from his own console stepping up easily to the Captain’s chair, 'I haven’t checked my PADD this evening, you say the Academy sent you?’

Kirk steps onto the bridge, letting the turbolift slide shut behind him – and, if Sulu wasn’t so focused on playing along, he’d have noticed Kirk quickly and effectively shutting down the lift with a press of his finger to the red button on the side of the panel, 'Yes sir, I’m to be stationed on the Enterprise once she’s done repairs.’

'Hm. Is that so.’ Sulu taps his fingertips against the armrests, and Kirk sees the pattern in the touches – knows that Sulu is locking the controls and double checking that the turbolift is shut down. He smiles, briefly, when he realizes that Kirk has already disabled it, 'Tell me Cadet, what’s your focus?’

'Xenolinguistics.’ Kirk says, and without skipping a beat continues with, 'It means I’ve got a talented tongue.’

'I know what Xenolinguistics means, thank you.’ And Sulu shifts his legs open, gesturing to the floor between his spread knees with an incline of his head, 'That sounds, to me, like you’re looking to prove it, Cadet.’

'I am _always_ looking to prove myself, sir.’

Sulu is about to say _then take a seat_ , but Kirk is already in front of him, dropping slowly to his knees and keeping his eyes on Sulu’s face the whole way down – Kirk reaches forward, hands moving towards the clasp and zip of Sulu’s uniform pants, 'Not so fast Cadet… what is it?’

'Kirk, sir.’ He says, his hands still hovering over Sulu, fingers twitching, wanting.

'Kirk. Well, _Cadet_ Kirk, you don’t get to be an Officer by skipping ahead,’ Sulu smiles at the little huff of disappointment from Kirk, his eyes shining, 'you’ve got to earn it like everyone else.’

And Sulu drags his index finger along Kirk’s lower lip, just sliding the pad of it along Kirk’s wet tongue when the _Cadet_ pulls it into his mouth with his teeth and Kirk is still looking up at him, watching while he presses forward a little to take the whole thing, down to the knuckle into his mouth – closing his lips around the skin to suck hard enough that it hollows out his cheeks and Sulu exhales, low and long, pulling his hand back until he can add his middle finger in with the first.

Kirk’s mouth is _so wet_ that he’s making these incredible little sounds while he sucks on the two fingers pushing in and out from between his lips, 'This isn’t enough for you, is it _Cadet_?’ and Sulu can’t stop the noise he makes when Kirk mumbles _no, sir_ around his fingers, opening his mouth as wide as he can – drool leaking out from the corners of his mouth, soaking Sulu’s skin and it’s so easy to slip a third finger in with the other two, twist them around each other and fuck them into the heat of Kirk’s spread lips.

And when Sulu pulls his fingers free from that wet heat, Kirk chases them, rocking forward and needing to brace himself on Sulu’s knees for balance, 'Did I do a good job sir?’ he says, trying to catch his breath and looking up at Sulu with his eyes blown wide and his chin soaked with spit.

Sulu’s hand ends up on Kirk’s head, dragging his saliva-damp fingers through Kirk’s short hair until he’s managed to get a fist of it and he’s pulling Kirk’s head back sharply, 'I want to see you do better.’ he groans out, his free hand working open the fastenings on his slacks and reaching in to get his cock out – thick and pre-come slicked at the head, his fingers curled around the weight of himself and jerking along the length once, twice, and a third time, pressing the wet head up against Kirk’s reddened mouth.

’ _Yes Captain_.’ is how Kirk answers, moving his lips against Sulu’s cock, letting his tongue follow them along, licking up against the salt-sweet slit at the tip and moaning low, needy, desperate at the back of his throat at the first taste of Sulu’s cock as it’s pushed between his spreading lips.

Sulu slides forward on the Captain’s chair, watching his cock getting swallowed up by Kirk’s mouth, pulling at his hair to keep his head titled back at just the right angle that Sulu can fit all the way in – Kirk’s throat clenching tightly around the head of his cock, his lips mouthing as far down around the thick base as Kirk can manage with his nose wedged right up against Sulu’s stomach and he can barely even swallow there’s so much weight and heat in his mouth that he just has to take it all and let the spit and pre-come leak out from the too-stretched corners of his mouth.

'That’s good Kirk,’ Sulu is saying, whispering, ’ _christ_ Cadet, Kirk, fuck, _Jim_.’

And Kirk _moans_ , trying to keep his head still, his throat open, letting Sulu fuck into his mouth at whatever pace he wants to set, offering the easy slide of his throat up when Sulu’s hand clenches in his hair - his thrusts getting jerky, uneven, and Kirk can’t speak but he’s fucking _begging_ for Sulu to come down his throat with the sounds he’s making around that thick shove of cock in his mouth.

But Sulu pulls back instead, pushing Kirk away until the _Cadet_ is forced to catch himself, leaning back on his arms, spread out in front of the Captain’s chair and Sulu’s sliding his fist along his spit-slicked cock, looking utterly wrecked with his knees spread and his eyes dark – coming thick and white and in lines across the red of Kirk’s uniform.

’ _Jesus christ_ ,’ Kirk hears himself groan, his Cadet Reds getting even more damp at the front, wet, soaked through, his cock pulsing hotly, coming unexpected and untouched, 'Fuckme, I haven’t come like that _since_ my Academy days.’

'It’s the uniform.’


	14. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Chekov Tops and Kirk Is Lame

  
‘You’re my _Navigator_ ,’ Kirk says, groaning low with his hips pushing back – he’s flat on his back with his legs spread wide, one hitched up over Chekov’s shoulder and the other falling open to the side, 'I thought you’d know your way around.’

And even though Chekov can hear the teasing lilt of Kirk’s voice, he still huffs a little exasperated breath out and adds a second finger alongside the first, pushing them both into the tight clenching heat of Kirk’s hole – he twists them _just so_ , pressing in a way that makes Kirk’s thick cock jump against his bare stomach, tracing wet lines of pre-come along his skin and, yeah, Kirk knows that it’s just to prove a point.

'I do not see you complaining, _Keptin_ , you would rather I stop?’ and Chekov smiles as he slows his fingers down until he’s barely moving them at all, looking up at Kirk and watching the way Kirk’s body tries to press back against them – he’s raising an eyebrow when he suggests, 'Ask for directions maybe?’

Kirk _whines_ for a half a second before realizing that the needy, desperate noise is coming from his own throat, 'No, no Ensign, that won’t, ah,’ he starts, digging his heel down against Chekov’s back as Chekov idly traces the stretched rim of Kirk’s hole with his slicked fingertips, just barely touching him, 'that won’t be necessary.’

‘You’re quite sure? I would not want you to be disappointed by my direction, sir.’ Chekov says, teasing as he crawls up on the bed and leans over Kirk’s body – with Kirk’s leg bending back until it’s _almost_  uncomfortable and Chekov is pressing up against him, letting his cock slide between Kirk’s ass cheeks, the wet, leaking head of his cock catching occasionally on the stretched-out rim of Kirk’s hole.

‘ _Fuck_ , I’m positive, _come-on Ensign.’_

Chekov laughs, low, half-groaned, he can’t quite reach Kirk’s lips so he brushes his mouth up against Kirk’s calf instead, kissing him there, ‘So impatient _Keptin_ , you would like a good job or a quick one?’

‘Right now? Anything. Give me _anything_.’

And Chekov pushes forward, pressing just the head of his cock into the heat of Kirk’s body and stopping himself again, ‘Order me.’ he says, his eyes closed, words quiet and Kirk moans loudly, his hand going to Chekov’s hair, fingers twining into his soft curls and tugging just enough that Chekov has to look at him.

‘Fuck me Ensign.’ he breathes out, gasping when Chekov’s cock _throbs_  inside him, ‘That’s an _order_.’

‘Da, da, sir, _yes_.’ Chekov _sighs_  and jerks his hips forward fast enough that Kirk gets pushed up a little on the bed, his fist in Chekov’s hair tightening so hard that Chekov winces and _moans_ and _somehow_  fits his cock even further into Kirk’s hole.

And he can’t even pretend to go slow once he’s fully shoved into the heat of his Captain – Kirk’s got a hand in his hair still and the other is fitted between their bodies, fist circled tight and working fast along the thick length of his cock, stroking along with the quick, needy shove and thrust of Chekov’s hips.

Chekov is making these little gasping sounds, little cries of _ah ah yes da_ with every fuck of his cock into Kirk’s tight, clenching hole – and it matches the way Kirk is panting and whining for it, moaning and arching and pouring, thick and hot and white over his fingers and between their chests.

And Kirk’s body tightens around Chekov’s cock, pulling his orgasm from him and he fills Kirk’s squeezing hole with come, fucking the aftershocks of it into him slowly, wet and slick and hot.

‘Perfect navigation, as always Ensign.’ Kirk says softly, grunting when Chekov pulls from him and collapses down beside him on the bed.

Chekov groans, burying his face in the pillow and pointedly not responding. 


	15. Scotty/Chekov: The One That is Part of a Different Fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT INFORMATION: you might wanna read [this gorgeous piece of work](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7834963/chapters/17886295) before reading this one. i mean, it's just porn so it's not 100% important but you won't be forced to have _feelings_ if you don't.

‘Ah, da, _yes_   _Mitya_.’ is what Chekov says, moans out when Scotty’s cock is finally, fully filling him up right to the hilt, stretching out his tight, finger-slicked hole – Chekov’s knees pressed up around Scotty’s thighs and his back curved _beautifully_ , looking down at the Engineer and smiling softly.

'You’re gorgeous lad.’ Scotty sighs, a hand on Chekov’s waist, his thumb brushing along his prominent hipbone – he’s got his other one pressed up against Chekov’s chest and he can feel the quick, steady beat of Chekov’s heart against his fingertips.

Chekov exhales, long and low, lifting himself up and off of Scotty’s lap until only the wet and thick head of Scotty’s cock is still inside him – he hovers there, his thighs trembling until he can barely stand it anymore and shoves himself down, throwing his head back with the movement.

Scotty’s hand on his hip tightens, his fingertips pressing marks into the pale of his skin, he’s groaning when Chekov leans over him, looking down at him with his eyes blown wide and his mouth open, panting, gasping – he’s riding Scotty’s cock, languid, slow, steady movements of his hips and Scotty’s hand on his chest slides down, reaches for the thick, hard length of his cock and fists his hand around it.

’ _Please_.’ Chekov is saying, dragging the word along Scotty’s mouth and _groaning_ when Scotty starts moving his wrist, quick and even, getting his palm soaked with pre-come, adding to the lube that’s already slicking his fingers.

Chekov’s watching him, keeping his eyes open as he fucks himself back against Scotty’s cock, thrusting up into Scotty’s tight fist and he’s already so close to coming when he realizes that the hand that was on his waist has moved up to between them and Scotty has his index finger hooked through the ring that Chekov has attached to a cord around his neck – Scotty’s class ring, the one he gave him not very long ago.

He can feel the little pull of it against the back of his neck and can’t stop the way his whole body tenses, his hips pushing back to take Scotty’s cock fully into him again and he’s coming hard, hot, wet, white lines of his come streaking his chest and covering Scotty’s hands – Scotty moans, glancing up just in time to watch Chekov’s face as his orgasm hits and he kisses the corner of Chekov’s mouth when he comes, saying _Pasha_ in the same tone that he uses when he speaks of _The Enterprise._


	16. Kirk/Bones, Kirk/Chekov, Sulu/Chekov: The One Made Up Of Ficlets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a few tumblr ficlets from the last couple of nights.

**Kirk/Bones**

There’s two glasses on the bar between them, Kirk’s is empty and Bones hasn’t quite finished (and he probably won’t) because Kirk has pushed himself up on his bar-stool, leaning over to take a hold of the front of Bones’ blue shirt and he’s saying:  _kiss me, please._

Kirk’s mouth tastes like stolen scotch, sweet and strong, and it’s so easy for Bones to swipe his tongue between those easily-opened lips – and Kirk makes a sound against him, a soft sigh, a desperate kind of exhale, the kind that makes Bones wish that there wasn’t a bar between them.

‘Please.’ Kirk says again, brushing the word up against Bones’ mouth, fingers clenching in the fabric of his shirt, tugging, pulling at him until Bones has got his hands braced against the edge of the bar, fingertips dragging along the smooth surface.

‘What do you need Jim?’ Bones asks, in between breaths, in between the needy push of Kirk’s tongue into his mouth and he’s sliding off of his stool, moving around the edge of the bar so that he can stand between the easy spread of Kirk’s thighs.

And Kirk _moans_ against him, hooks a leg around the curve of Bones’ waist and draws him forward, grinds their hips together hard enough that Bones can feel the hard, thick press of Kirk’s cock up against his own, ’ _Everything_.’

 

**Sulu/Chekov**

‘I heard you over the comm,’ Chekov starts, his hand on Sulu’s chest and pushing him back until the backs of his knees are pressed up against the Captain’s chair, ‘from engineering. Your voice, _bozhe moi_ , it made my legs feel weak.’ and Sulu falls back, ends up in the chair, looking up at Chekov, 'Speak to me that way Hikaru.’

And Sulu can’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up into a small smile, one of his hands going to Chekov’s slim waist to tug him closer, drag him forward far enough that the only place he can end up is on Sulu’s lap.

It’s a tight fit, them both of the chair, but they make it work – Chekov’s knees fitted up against Sulu’s thighs and Chekov’s already so hard, already breathing heavy even before Sulu speaks, 'You want an ultimatum Ensign?’ Sulu says, calming the hitch in his throat when Chekov grinds down against him, and Chekov is biting his lip with his cheeks flushing red, 'I don’t think you want to know what will happen if this doesn’t go my way.’

Chekov _moans_ , grinds down again, pushes the heat of his covered-cock up against Sulu’s stomach, 'What will you do to me,  _Keptin_?’

And Sulu feels the growl in his throat before he hears it – his hands slipping underneath of the gold of Chekov’s uniform shirt, his fingertips digging into Chekov’s hips hard enough to leave marks, 'Oh. _I’ll show you_.’

 

**Kirk/Chekov**

‘I read the mission report,’ Kirk says, sidestepping as Chekov punches at him – the mat is soft beneath his feet and they’re both sweating from sparring long enough that the room has cleared out, ‘it said you pushed a boulder off of Sulu all by yourself.’

Chekov scoffs, like he’s personally offended that Kirk would think he’d need anyone’s help to save Sulu’s life, or his, or _any of them_ , ‘You know I am strong, I once saved you and Mr. Scott, do you not remember?’

‘Oh, I remember,’ Kirk jabs twice, missing Chekov as the ensign tilts his head to the left and then right to dodge, bouncing on his heels, ‘I just feel like you’ve been pulling punches with me. I want to know what you can really do.’

‘I did not want to hurt you, _Keptin_.’ 

And somewhere between those words and Kirk huffing out a laugh is when Chekov lifts him, slams him down, and pins him to the mat.

Kirk’s breath hitches, lodged at the back of his throat, back arched from the impact and he can’t decide if he wants Chekov to feel the way his cock hardens immediately between their pressed bodies or not. 

‘This is what you wanted?’ Chekov asks with his voice low, looking down between them and leaning forward with his hands pressed flat on either side of Kirk’s head.

And yes. Kirk wants this. Wants it so badly that he can`t fight back the moan that slips from his lips, ‘You can feel that it is.’

Chekov smiles, looking up to catch Kirk`s eyes and watching the pupils grow as he pushes his hips forward so that the hot line of his own cock is pressed up against Kirk`s ass, ‘Show me.’

 

**Kirk/Chekov** _(again)_

The Russian words still feel clumsy on Kirk’s tongue and he’s pretty sure that Uhura will never make eye contact with him again after spending close to three days pestering her to teach him the proper pronunciation but it’s worth it, it’s all worth it because the first brush of his breath against Chekov’s ear makes his young navigator shiver hard enough that he’d swear that if Chekov weren’t already sitting that he’d have to help to keep him upright.

And Chekov exhales hard, half sighed and close enough to a moan that Kirk can’t help but press his smile up against the sensitive skin just under Chekov’s ear, ‘That sound good to you, ensign?’ he says, his lips brushing up along Chekov’s neck and he can see the way Chekov is gripping the edge of his console, his fingertips pressing down hard and his neck and cheeks flushing a pretty red.

‘Da Keptin,’ Chekov sighs, says under his breath, tilting his head to the side and leaning back against the heat of Kirk’s chest pressed up against his back, ‘where is it that would you like me?’

And Kirk drags his teeth along the long line of Chekov’s neck, bites down against the curve of Chekov’s shoulder, 'Everywhere possible.’ and he’s smiling still, watching Chekov’s thumbs tracing idle lines along the console, his cock getting noticeably hard, pressing up against the fabric of his uniform slacks, ‘Whenever possible.’  and Kirk leans forward, drapes himself over Chekov’s shoulder with a hand braced on the console beside Chekov’s, the other landing high up on Chekov’s thigh – close enough that he can stretch his fingers out and _just_ brush the tips up against the heat of Chekov’s cock, listening for the hitch of his navigator’s breath again, ‘Right now.’

_additional:_

(sulu raises his eyebrow when kirk wanders away and chekov blushes even harder like what the fuck kirk we’re still on shift you asshole, that was super fucking public

and then after shift chekov waits until everyone else has left and corners kirk in the turbolift and is like i think the saying is: put your money where your mouth is? and literally no one has slammed their fist against the emerg stop panel in the turbolift as hard and fast as kirk does cause all he’s thought about all shift is being on his knees for his ensign

like, his mouth is already watering and so fucking wet before he’s even on the ground and looking up at chekov and chekov’s got his hand in kirk’s hair and kirk wants to be ashamed of the noises coming from his throat but ohmygod chekov’s shoving down his pants and pressing the thick head of his cock up against kirk’s mouth

and the little moan that chekov makes when kirk takes the length of his cock all the way to the back of his throat in one swift motion is fucking worth _everything_ )


	17. Kirk/Bridge Crew: The One Where They Have To Prove A Claim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asks:  
>  About your Fuck or Die post, I first read it as "literally EVERYONE steps up". And I'm so here for that. The whole gang stepping forward to claim Jim (because fuck the aliens for trying to steal their Captain), then realizing that they all moved and spoke at the same time, and are getting eyeballed by the aliens. And beautiful incredible smart Uhura saving it by explaining about poly and that it's part of their culture and they're all involved with Jim. And then they all take turns fucking Jim._
> 
> so then this happened:

Kirk’s thighs are already trembling from being spread so wide for so long, his lower back _aches_ , his cock jutting up against his stomach, hard and thick, tip so soaked with pre-come that he’s leaving wet lines against his skin.

His First Officer is behind him, twisting his fingers into the tight heat of his hole and dragging whines and whimpers from the back of Kirk’s throat, ‘I’m ready, I’m ready, _please_.’

Spock’s breath is right against his ear, ‘I do not want any of us to hurt you, Jim.’

_Any of us._

And _christ_ he’d almost forgotten that this is just the beginning.

'Spock, I’m okay,’ Kirk says, his voice breaking off into a needy moan when Spock’s fingers curl into him once more before withdrawing, ’ _thank you_.’

Spock’s cock is so hot that Jim feels like he should pull away before being burned up, but then Spock stretches him out and finally pushes all of the way into him and he is so glad for the heat – it feels so good, no, incredible, Spock filling him up, leaning over him with his fingertips pressed up against Kirk’s face and he can only vaguely register Uhura’s soft gasp from _somewhere_ before Spock is feeding all his pleasure at being inside Kirk right into his head on a feedback loop that has Kirk arching and gasping and he’s seconds from coming when he feels the wet, thick heat of Spock coming inside of him.

Kirk hears Spock say, 'Doctor.’ from behind him and Kirk is lightheaded, sure, but he’s fairly certain that he’s not in need of help just yet.

And there’s fingers pressed up against his hole again, careful, slow, and _oh_ , right, he doesn’t need a Doctor, it’s just Bones turn.

'Hey Bones.’ Kirk sighs out, moaning low when Bones stretches his leaking hole with the tips of his fingers, and Kirk knows that Bones is just making sure he’s ready for more, 'Come on in.’

Bones huffs out a laugh but Kirk can hear that it’s edged with worry.

'Don’t worry about me. We’re all good here,’ Kirk is saying, sighing, pushing back against Bones’ fingers until he can feels them slipping into him, knuckle deep, 'best day of my life Doc.’

'All part of your plan to sleep your way through the crew, huh Jim?’

And Kirk wants to laugh at that, but _ohgod_ , Bones is pushing into him slowly, his hands on Kirk’s hips either to brace or to steady himself and Kirk is right back to moaning again – both loving and hating the way Bones jerks his hips forward in these quick, sharp, shallow thrusts, never quite filling him up fully and only teasing against his prostate and _fuckinghell_ he’s probably doing it on purpose to keep him from getting off too quickly.

'You’re a bastard, you know.’  

'You’ve mentioned.’ Bones’ hands clench on Kirk’s hips right before he’s coming into the already wet heat of Kirk’s hole – and Kirk gasps when he pulls free, come spilling down Kirk’s thighs, hot and thick and soaking him.

'Guess that’s me then.’ Sulu says and it’s in that same hard, determined voice that he only ever seems to use when he’s in Kirk’s chair.

'You guys draw straws or something?’

And Kirk’s glad to hear Sulu laugh before he’s being taken again.

Sulu leans over him fully, presses his whole body up against Kirk’s and bites a mark into the curve of Kirk’s neck (and it’s the first time the species of this planet have made a sound during all of this, as though that mark would have been enough to prove it to them), 'You want to come this time?’ he groans and Kirk matches , nodding his head and whining for it, 'You’ll have to tell me, Captain.’

'Yes Lieutenant’ Kirk moans, pushing his hips back to meet Sulu’s thrust and _christ_ his back arches, curves, and he’s barely hanging onto the edge of sanity when he orders Sulu to make him come.

And, okay, he’s pretty sure he blacked out for a second there because when he can focus again he’s starring up at turquoise of the planets sky instead of being face down – his legs are still shaking but they’re bent over someone’s shoulders now and he’s reaching a trembling hand down to stroke his fingers through soft brown curls.

'Ensign.’ Kirk sighs, wincing at the way his voice cracks.

'Aye Keptin.’ and Chekov’s breath brushes up against the loose, red pucker of his stretched-out hole right before he swipes his tongue along him and Kirk’s entire body jerks in reaction, his knees clenching tightly over Chekov’s shoulders.

There’s a noise that Kirk rarely makes in bed, in fact, he can count the times someone has drawn it out from where he normally keeps it buried on one hand but Chekov’s working his tongue up against him, pushing the tip of it into Kirk’s hole as often as he can and Kirk can’t seem to stop making it.

The sounds are loud and wet and Chekov’s licking along Kirk’s thighs to replace Spock, and Bones, and Sulu’s come with his spit, moaning and sighing like it’s his favourite thing and Kirk isn’t sure how he’s going to look the ensign in the eyes after finding out just how absolutely, amazingly, _filthy_ he is.

And, impossibly, he can feel the dull throb of his cock getting hard again.

Chekov’s barely all of the way on his feet before he presses just the head of his cock into Kirk’s oversensitive hole, his hand jerking up and down along the length of him not surrounded by Kirk’s heat and Kirk’s bent near in half, his heel digging into Chekov’s shoulder – and he can’t look away from Chekov with his curls damp and sticking to his forehead and his face flushed, mouth parted and gasping as he fills Kirk up with the thick pour of his orgasm.

'I’m going to need your number.’ Kirk says, his voice low and ruined, and he can’t help but smile when Chekov has the audacity to look bashful after fucking Kirk’s ass with his tongue.

'Spock, Bones, Sulu, Chekov,’ Kirk counts off eyes closed while Chekov returns to _wherever_ they’re hanging out while this is happening (and Kirk imagines, and hopes, that they’re all just off to the side, holding up scorecards after everyone takes a turn with him) – there’s a hand on his shoulder and it’s soft and smooth and he cracks an eye open, 'hello beautiful.’

'Well, I’ve head all the stories about you over the years, sir, it’ll be good to put all of those rumours to bed after this.’

And Kirk is reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair back behind Uhura’s ear, 'Whatever you’ve heard, it’s all true. Hey, do I get to call you Nyota now?’

'I’d rather you didn’t.’ she says, lifting her leg over to straddle his waist, her uniform skirt pushed up high on her thighs, 'That’s a second date privilege at least.’

And _jesuschrist_ she’s gorgeous when she reaches down to circle her fingers around his cock and line him up with her lovely, wet cunt, 'I thought the first night we met was our first date? I made it to second base at least.’ he’s struggling to keep his eyes open now, groaning as she surrounds his cock and settles down on him fully.

Ignoring him she says, 'I think I’m the last,’ and she’s lifting herself up a little, rocking her hips forward and sighing, 'do you want me to make this faster for you?’

'You think?’ Kirk’s voice breaks with a moan, _god_ , she feels so good, 'And no, you take as much time as you’d like.’

'Scotty beamed down, demanded to know what the entirety of bridge crew was up to.’ She’s saying, keeping her voice low like someone is listening to them – and she’s moving slowly over him, her breath hitching every time his cock is fully shoved into her, 'He’s trying to explain that he’s not claiming you, but it doesn’t sit well with what I’ve told them about all of us.’

'You talkin’ about me?’

Uhura is looking over her shoulder, watching Scotty approach, her hips still rolling forward and Kirk is so close to whimpering she forces herself to still the movement, 'What did they say?’

Kirk can’t hear what Scotty says, there’s too much blood rushing against his ears to really concentrate, he only knows that Uhura is shifting them both, draping herself over him and maneuvering him on top of her – her legs hooked around his waist and her hands on his face and she’s so wet and so warm that he can’t help but kiss her, sighing against her mouth.

And he should have known, but it’s still a surprise when Scotty’s fingers push up against the still soaked rim of his hole, 'You think you can handle one more Cap'n?’

Scotty’s fingers are rough, calloused from engine work, where they wrap around Kirk’s hip and over his shoulder to keep him in place and all Kirk can do is moan helplessly – he’s being held still by Uhura and she’s breathing hard, her knees tightening around his waist while Scotty presses into him, fucks him with slow, calculated thrusts that have Kirk shaking and trembling in their arms.

Kirk can’t even hold himself up, he wants to apologize to Uhura for crushing her with his body but the only sounds he seems capable of making are weak, broken moans.

He can feel Uhura’s body clenching around his cock and Scotty’s thrusts are getting erratic, uneven and he’s already so soaked inside that it’s just the heat of Scotty’s come that he can feel and he gets shoved forward by the force of Scotty’s last jerk of his hips so hard that he fucks all the way into Uhura when he comes with her pulsing around his cock.

And he must have passed out again because the next time his eyes open he’s back on The Enterprise under the too-bright lights of the medbay and Bones is standing by his side, waiting for him to wake up, as always, 'Well, I don’t know what you’ll write for the mission report but you’re going to be okay, if sore, for the next little while.’

Kirk’s throat feels raw, dry and cracked and broken but he still manages a smile and says, 'I’ll say it was a team building exercise.’


	18. Kirk/Bridge Crew: The One Where They Can't Stay Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> someone was like _hey how about more of Kirk fucking all of his crew?_ and i was like YES

Kirk’s in the mess hall when Spock finds him, standing too close and breathing too hot against Kirk’s ear, ‘Your thoughts Jim, I cannot seem to stop hearing them.’ and Kirk’s not sure if he means _right now_ (because there’s no way he’s thinking about Chekov’s gorgeously wet and talented tongue licking along his hole while Kirk’s pinned up against the wall of the turbolift loud enough that Spock can hear) or if he means _during that mission_ – you know, the one no one really ever talks about happening.

‘What do they sound like?’ Kirk asks, his voice a whisper and he has no idea where that came from because is he really going to go down this road with Spock too? But Spock’s leaning _right up against him_ in the middle of the room where everyone can see and he _has_ to know.

Spock growls, _actually fucking growls,_ against Kirk’s ear and it’s a low. bone-deep noise that threatens to bring Kirk to his knees _right here_ and Spock’s hand is on his hip, urging him forward until they’re hidden away in a corner (not that everyone didn’t just see where they went anyway, but still) and Kirk’s being spun around to face Spock, sucking in a breath at the darkness of the Vulcan’s eyes and the greenish blush colouring the edges of his ears.

And Spock’s fingers find his face, tips pressed softly to the skin and Kirk feels like all of the air has been knocked out of him all at once because _all he can feel_ is that same blissed out, desperately needy feeling that he’d had when Spock’s long fingers had been sliding into him, stretching him out to get his hole ready for each and every one of his bridge crew to take.

‘I have never felt a desire to be used as strong as yours Captain.’ and Spock’s voice is distant in a way that Kirk is getting used to, speaking straight into his head, ‘And I have never felt the urge to oblige in that desire as strong as I do with you.’

And _jesuschrist_ those words and _those feelings_ in Kirk’s head make him moan openly and he’s never been as pleased as when Spock _understands_ what he wants without having to say anything and steps closer into Kirk’s space – his knee pushing up and in-between Kirk’s legs and Kirk doesn’t even hesitate before he’s rubbing his suddenly, desperately hard cock up against that pressure.

Kirk’s thoughts are filthy, he couldn’t help stop them from pouring out and looping into Spock’s mind even if he tried – not that he’d want to, what with the way Spock shifts and presses the hard line of his cock up against Kirk’s thigh and they’re in the _goddamn mess hall_ , pressing against each other like teenagers but all Kirk can think about is being spread open on that cock again and fucked, face down against _anything_ with Spock’s hands on his hips and Spock’s cock shoved so deep inside him and Spock grunts, out loud, in Kirk’s head, the sound echoing _everywhere_ and Kirk is blown away his back arching, coming hard from just how hot it is to feel Spock’s orgasm shorting out their link.

And Spock stumbles back, looking _exactly_ as ruined as Kirk knows he’s looking too, ‘I don’t think doing that will help with tuning me out Spock.’ Kirk hears himself say and Spock’s lips quirk up into a small smile before he turns and walks away.

–

They’re sparring when Sulu brings it up for the first time since _the incident_ and Kirk is absolutely amused that he chooses to do so when Kirk is flat on his back with his legs hitched up around Sulu’s waist from an incredibly impressive throw, ‘Every time you call me _Lieutenant_ I want to pin you like this.’

Kirk grins, ‘With less clothing involved, I’m sure.’  

And _god_ , sometimes Sulu hates him just as much as he wants him – that cocky attitude coming out, even like this, with Sulu very obviously being the victor of their match, ‘’Ideally, yeah.’

‘Well then _Lieutenant.’_ Kirk starts and there’s no way Sulu is going to let him finish that one so he shoves his hips forward, pressing his cock up against the curve of Kirk’s ass, his hands on Kirk’s wrists tightening to keep him from moving and Kirk’s already flushed, breathless, _wanting_ when Sulu drops his head down to Kirk’s shoulder and bites him, _in that same spot as before_ , dragging his teeth and tongue along the mark before doing it again.

‘Tell me you want it.’

And _yes_ Kirk thinks, says, _begs_ , struggling just for the sake of watching Sulu’s arms flex and to feel the bruises that Sulu’s fingertips are marking into his skin.

Kirk can’t believe how into this he is, his breath coming out in little needy, embarrassing sounding pants while Sulu rocks up against him – clothes still in the way and it’s _so_ good already that he’s pretty sure he’s going to come just from Sulu holding him down that he’s not expecting Sulu to shift his hold, using one hand to clasp both of Kirk’s wrists and dragging his other down between their bodies.

Sulu’s barely touching him, it’s infuriating in the same way that it’s _incredible_ , Sulu’s fingers ghosting up along how tightly his shorts are pressed against his throbbing cock and Sulu’s looking like him like he’s _starved_ , leaning down to bite at Kirk’s neck again, ‘I’m going to make you come just from this Captain.’

And _jesusfuckingchrist,_ he does.

–

They’re all on shore leave and at least six shots gone when Uhura slides on to his lap and it’s easy and it feels good when his hands immediately go to her hips, pulling her down against him just to feel the heat of her there, ‘Third date?’ Kirk says, grinning at the way she flushes and smiles at him.

‘Barely the second.’ her voice is breathy and soft – it makes Kirk’s cock harden noticeably against her inner thigh and she shifts against him until he’s pressed properly up against her panties, her skirt pushed up high on her legs ‘I don’t count that first one, remember?’ 

And Kirk laughs, moving his hips against hers just to hear the _sigh_ of her voice when she moans and then doing it _again_ just to see if she’ll make that same noise, ‘I bet I could fuck you here and no one would know, how about it?’

Uhura looks at least partially offended, leaning back to scowl at him but there’s nothing in her eyes that says she means it, in fact, Kirk can see that she’s only shifted back to get her hands between them – talented fingers tugging open his pants to get his cock out.

He groans, sounding filthy when her fingers stroke along him once and then again, her hips tilted at _just_ the right angle that she keeps dragging her knuckles against her panty-covered cunt and _christ_ but Kirk can’t look away from that – if he could, he’d have her on the chair instead of him just so that he could kneel between the spread of her thighs and lick his tongue along the sweet line of her.

‘Fuck, Nyota.’ he whispers, under his breath and she huffs out a little laugh (no doubt wanting to chastise him for saying her name like that) while tightening the fist of her fingers wrapped around him, jerking him off fast with her hips rocking forward to press up against the movement of her hand.

And if he thought for a second that she’d let him slide his fingers into the damp heat of her he would but he knows Uhura, knows her well enough to leave her in charge of this, whatever it is, and that if she wants something more from him she’ll damn well ask for it.

–

McCoy looks nervous and on edge every time they’re alone together since _that planet_ and it’s been driving Kirk absolutely crazy, ‘Okay Bones, hit me.’ he says, finally, sitting across from McCoy with a drink in his hand and when Bones just lifts an eyebrow he continues, ‘What is going on with you?’

‘You know I didn’t mean it, yeah?’

And Kirk wants to laugh, but first he’d also like to know what the fuck Bones is talking about, ‘You’re gonna have to give me specifics here.’

‘On that planet,’ McCoy starts and pauses long enough to finish and pour himself another drink, ‘when I said that this was part of your _fucking your way through the crew_ plan. I didn’t mean it.’

Kirk does actually laugh this time, uncomfortably loud in the quiet of Bones’ office, ‘ _That_ is what you’re apologizing for? Not for, say, keeping me on the edge of coming for close to an hour while I whimpered and begged for it?’

‘You didn’t beg.’ McCoy says, smiling and Kirk suddenly feels just a little bit cornered in here, ‘I’ve heard you beg before, hell, I’ve _made_ you beg before.’

And, okay, sure, before they graduated from the Academy there’d been nights where he and Bones would spend hours drinking, getting wrecked, with Kirk’s tongue and teeth playing with the Good Doctor’s earlobe until Bones had thrown him down against any hard surface and fucked into the tight heat of his hole until Kirk could barely breathe from how good it felt – legs shaking, drooling, messy, desperate orgasms that Kirk had fucking begged for every single time.

‘Okay, okay, fair point.’ Kirk’s got his hands up in a mock-innocent gesture even as Bones walks around the desk between them and grabs Kirk by the chin, tilting his face up, ‘So, how did you want to apologize to me?’ and Kirk’s voice has gone low, breathless.

‘Yeah, you know what?’ McCoy says, noticing the freshly made bite mark against Kirk’s neck and pressing his thumb down against it, ‘I’ve changed my mind about that.’ and he’s putting down his drink and using his now free hand to undo his slacks, ‘Open up, buttercup.’

And Kirk smiles. 

–

It’s Kirk who ends up finding Scotty, seeking him out as the only member of _that mission_  who hasn’t already spoken to, cornered, and then fucked him, ‘Wasn’t good enough for you?’ Kirk says, hands pressed to Scotty’s desk down in engineering and leaning over the table, flushed and just on the wrong edge of drunk with his lips still wet and red from his time spent with McCoy.

‘Not at all Cap’n,’ and Scotty still isn’t getting up from his chair, still looks totally casual and it’s _frustrating_  in a way Kirk doesn’t know how to describe – someone not _chasing_  him feels wrong, it feels like a rarity, ‘I was just willing to wait ‘till you came to me, is all.’

Kirk lets out the breath he didn’t even realize that he was holding, dropping down so that he’s got his arms folded on Scotty’s desk with his chin on his forearm and his ass sticking up in the air, ‘And here I am.’

‘Here you are indeed.’

And _fuck_  he should have known that Scotty would be like this – sitting in a chair behind Kirk, Kirk’s uniform pants pulled down just over the crest of his ass with two wet fingers curling into the tight stretch of his hole while Scotty just watches, learning the moves of Kirk’s body, of each shuddering breath, figuring out exactly where to push and where to press and how to make Kirk gasp and groan and _pant_ with his mouth opened wide. 

 _God_ , Scotty pulls him apart piece by piece with his fingers like he’s just another component to the Enterprise (and maybe he is) and it’s Scotty’s job to _improve_ him, make him better, make his cock ache worse and better than it ever has until Kirk is moaning and pushing his hips back and _begging_  in nothing more than the crack and shatter of his voice, arching and streaking come over the papers on Scotty’s desk with his cock not even touched. 

And Kirk’s legs are shaking, hell, his entire body is trembling by the time he manages to stand up and say something ridiculous like _thank you_  to Scotty before almost limping from his engineer’s office. 

–

Kirk isn’t sure when they all find out about each other, he just knows that they do. And that none of them seem to mind. 


	19. Chekov/Kirk: The One That Is Exceptionally Filthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asks:  
>  I'm over here like "I bet Pavel is just fun and slutty. Kind of like Jim." and all you're selling me on the fact that especially when they get together, it's just a mutually kind of rough, messy, cumplay extravaganza, and it's one of the many reasons I adore you._

Kirk’s legs are shaking, thighs trembling, come streaking his chest, covering his fingers and knuckles and Chekov’s still inside him, still filling him up with the achingly deep shove of his hard, thick cock – he’s leaning down over Kirk, folding Kirk’s body in half until Kirk’s legs are hitched all the way up, bent over his shoulders and Chekov’s hips are still working, still thrusting into the tightening clench of Kirk’s stretched hole.

And Chekov grabs Kirk’s wrist from between them, pulls Kirk’s come-wet hand up until it’s right _there_ , close to both their mouths and he’s watching Kirk, looking at him with his eyes blown black and his lips opened, _panting_  with each little shove of his cock into Kirk’s body and _fuckingchrist_  but Kirk can feel the throb of his own, recently spent cock making an effort to get hard again when Chekov takes one of his fingers all the way into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks out and sucking hard, dragging his tongue over the skin, moaning around Kirk’s knuckle at the taste.

‘Oh _god_ ,’ Kirk says, _groaning_ , when Chekov pulls back and lets the finger pop wetly from his mouth and then he’s pressing Kirk’s own middle finger up against Kirk’s lips, smearing come along them when Kirk speaks again, ‘what have you done with my young, sweet Ensign?’ 

And Kirk is already so oversensitive that every single slide of Chekov’s cock into him makes him shiver harder and arch away but it still feels so good, _fucking incredible,_  in just the same way that the taste of his own come as he takes his finger into his mouth and sucks is – and Chekov is smiling, moaning, licking along the back of Kirk’s hand while Kirk swirls his tongue around his fingertip, ‘You would not want me sweet, would you _Keptin_?’

Kirk will never, ever, get tired of the way that word sounds coming from Chekov’s mouth, and _no,_ he thinks, and then says out loud, his voice shattering into a moan when Chekov flexes his hips and brushes the thick head of his cock up against Kirk’s prostate. 

(Actually, he can barely even imagine a sweet, gentle version of this, can only remember up to their first time together and even then it’d been Chekov who’d cornered him in the lift, Chekov who’d urged Kirk down to his knees and told him, in no uncertain terms, that he’d wanted to _come across your pretty face, Keptin,_ and then, finally, Chekov who’d hauled him up by the front of his gold shirt (with surprising, to Kirk at least, strength) and licked his own come off of Kirk’s face, moaning and letting Kirk rut up against his thigh).

‘No.’ Kirk says again, firmly while still being _so breathless_  from the way Chekov’s thrusts are getting erratic now and his own cock is more than half hard again, filling up between them from just how _hot_  Chekov is with his lips red and his face and neck flushed, rocking forward over and over _christ_  Kirk is a mess for this, wishes he could spread his legs out wider somehow, wants to let Chekov fuck him like this  _forever._

Chekov’s hips stutter, breaking the pattern he’s been building, his mouth closing over Kirk’s wrist, teeth digging into the skin to keep from shouting, from screaming when he jerks forward again and fills Kirk up with the thick, hot pour of his come.

Kirk _sighs_ , long and low, his aching legs falling off of Chekov’s shoulders as his Ensign pulls back, and Chekov’s very slowly dragging his cock free from Kirk’s body, leaning back to look at him, his hand trailing down Kirk’s chest until he’s stroking his fingertips along the almost fully hard length of Kirk’s cock, ‘Are you not finished yet Keptin?’ he asks, shifting further down between Kirk’s spread legs to drag his teeth along the inside of Kirk’s thigh.

And Kirk really doesn’t need to come again but Chekov’s looking at him like it’s all he really wants to do and Kirk nods, urging him further by placing his hand onto Chekov’s head, his fingers threading through Chekov’s sweat-dampened curls, ‘Please.’ he says, just to watch the way Chekov sucks in a breath at being asked for it.

He’s expecting Chekov’s sweet lips around his cock, sucking him just like he’d done to Kirk’s fingers earlier, he’s not expecting Chekov to brace a forearm against the back of both of his knees and push, tilting Kirk’s body back just enough that Kirk can feel the way Chekov’s come leaks out from his cock-stretched hole and then Chekov’s mouth is on him, against him, lapping up the warm spill of himself and tonguing into the heat of him.

And _holyfuckingchrist_  Kirk almost chokes on his own spit as it floods his mouth – his cock at full attention now, laying hard against his stomach and Chekov’s making these perfect little noises with his face buried between Kirk’s ass cheeks, thrusting his tongue full into Kirk’s hole and _moaning_ for more. 

Kirk feels absolutely _destroyed_ when he finally reaches down to stroke himself off, his cock just on the edge of too-sensitive from having come already once before – and he closes his eyes just so he can listen to how wet and rude and just, so completely _filthy_ it sounds to have Chekov eating his own come out of Kirk’s hole, ‘Fuck, fuck, _fuck.’_ Kirk chants under his breath, and he can feel the pressure building up at the base of his spine, his back already arched and his legs fucking _shaking_  as he comes again with a broken cry.

Chekov releases his legs slowly, helping Kirk to arrange himself comfortably on the bed and Kirk can’t stop trembling, panting, his throat raw from just how much noise he’d been making – and Chekov crawls up along side him, wiping his red, wet lips and his spit and come and lube soaked chin with the back of his hand, ‘Good?’ he says, idly dragging his fingertips through the cooling pool of come on Kirk’s stomach and Kirk moans out a long breath,

‘Yes Ensign, very.’ 


	20. Kirk/Chekov: The One Where Kirk Wants To Hear Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _anonymous asks:  
>  in almost every fic ive read chekov is loud in bed and dont get me wrong i love that as well, but what if hes actually really scared to make any sound? maybe most people he has done it with only wants him for the pretty face and dont want to hear his “ugly” accent. and then kirk or someone realises it and takes it as their mission to make chekov as loud as possible_
> 
> (you remember when i said [go read this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7834963/chapters/17886295) because ima use the nicknames?)

‘Come on Ensign, let me hear you.’ Kirk says, his mouth pressed up against Chekov’s ear and his young navigator is biting down on his kiss-swollen lower lip, choking back the sound of the moan that Kirk knows is lodged in his throat, ‘C’mon.’ he groans again, making sure that his voice is low, his teeth dragging along the sensitive patch of skin high up on Chekov’s neck.

And, _jesus_ , Kirk wants to hear what Chekov sounds like when he’s like this, all flushed and sweat-slicked – face down against Kirk’s sheets with his head turned to the side and his ass up in the air. Taking Kirk’s thick, heavy cock all the way into his body, so deep that Kirk’s balls are shoved up against his ass, so spread with his knees pushed wide and his thighs trembling – with one of Kirk’s hands on his waist and the other slipped beneath him to wrapped tightly around the heat of his leaking cock and stroking quick alongside Kirk’s thrusts.

Chekov’s got his fists in the sheets and, _fuck_ , he’s drooling and grunting but it’s just not enough – Kirk loves to listen to people coming undone, he loves the throat-raw cries of his partners and it doesn’t matter how many time’s he urges Chekov to scream, it’s just not happening, not _yet._

So he pulls out, listening to the _aching_  sigh that Chekov makes, that little whimper of _want_  that slips out past his lips and he pulls him over until he`s on his back – and Kirk’s lifting Chekov’s legs over his shoulders, pushing the navigator’s body back until he’s tilted up at just the _right_  angle and he’s shoving into him again, slow, with just his pre-come wet cockhead breaching Chekov’s tight hole, with Chekov’s back arched and he’s leaning over him, ‘Tell me you want it, I want to hear you.’

And Chekov _whimpers_ , his knees tightening around Kirk’s shoulders and his heels digging in against Kirk’s back and his voice is so fucking low when he says, ‘I want it, _Keptin.’_

‘Tell me.’ Kirk repeats, his hips dipping forward just enough that Chekov _moans_  and it’ sounds so sweet, so desperate, that Kirk almost looses it right there.

‘Please.’ Chekov is near whining, his cock leaking wetly over Kirk’s un-moving fingers, his soaked and stretched hole clenching around the weight of Kirk’s cock inside him, ‘Please, fuck me.’ 

 _Fuck_ , Kirk groans out loud, his fist jerking along Chekov’s cock – and the navigator _arches_  again, his mouth open, fucking _panting_  and Kirk can’t help but shove back into the tight heat of him, cursing under his breath again and fucking into his Ensign hard enough that Chekov’s body gets pushed up along the bed, ‘Let me hear you, please, I could come to the sound of your voice.’

And Chekov’s breath hitches, the colour of his eyes stretching black as his pupils fully dilate, and _christ_ , Kirk has never heard him like this and it’s _everything_ – little gasping breaths, full, rambling sentences in what Kirk can only assume is Russian, and Kirk’s name, over and over like a _fucking prayer_.

‘Keptin,’ he says, moans, arches, clings, comes, ‘Jim, Jim, Jim, _Yashka_.’

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to wander over to my [Tumblr](http://exorin.tumblr.com) and say hi or request something!


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